The Standard Cantatas - Their Stories, Their Music, and Their Composers

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Title: The Standard Cantatas - Their Stories, Their Music, and Their Composers
Author: Upton, George P. (George Putnam), 1834-1919
Language: English
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THE
Standard Cantatas
THEIR STORIES, THEIR MUSIC, AND THEIR COMPOSERS

_A Handbook_

By GEORGE P. UPTON
AUTHOR OF
"THE STANDARD OPERAS," "THE STANDARD ORATORIOS," "WOMAN IN MUSIC," ETC.

CHICAGO
A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY
1888

PREFACE.

The "Standard Cantatas" is the third of the series in which the "Standard
Operas" and "Standard Oratorios" have been its predecessors. Of
necessity, therefore, the same method has been followed in the
arrangement and presentation of the author's scheme. As in the works
above mentioned, short sketches of the music and stories of the cantatas
are presented, together with biographies of their composers, some of
which are reproduced from the other volumes with slight changes, the
repetitions being necessary for the sake of uniformity. The sketches are
prefaced by a comprehensive study of the cantata in its various forms,
from its early simple recitative or aria style down to its present
elaborate construction, which sometimes verges closely upon that of the
opera or oratorio.

The word "cantata" is so flexible and covers such a wide area in music,
that it has been a work of some difficulty to decide upon the
compositions that properly come within the scheme of this volume. During
the past two centuries it has been variously applied to songs, like those
of the early Italian school; to ballads, like those of the early English
composers; to concert arias, like those of Mozart, Beethoven, and
Mendelssohn; to short operettas, dramatic scenas, cycles of ballads, and
even to oratorios, whose subjects are more or less dramatic. It is
believed, however, that the most important of the modern cantatas are
included in the volume, and with them will be found several works, such
as the "Damnation of Faust" and the "Romeo and Juliet" vocal symphony and
others, which, though not in the strict cantata form, are nevertheless
compositions belonging to the concert-stage for voices and orchestra,
performed without scenery, costumes, or stage accessories.

The author has paid particular attention to cantatas by American
composers, and has selected for description and analysis those which in
his estimation rank the highest in musical merit. It would be manifestly
impossible to include in a volume of the present size all the
compositions by Americans which have been called cantatas, for their
number is well-nigh "legion." Those have been selected which are
creditable to American musical scholarship and are making a name for
American music. It is possible some have been omitted which fulfil these
conditions; if so, it is only because they have not come within the
author's observation. The Appendix has been a work of great care, labor,
and research, and wherever it was practicable the date of each cantata
was verified.

Like its two predecessors, the "Standard Cantatas" has been prepared for
the general public, which has not the time or opportunity to investigate
such matters, rather than for musicians, who are presumed to be familiar
with them. On this account the text is made as untechnical as possible,
and description takes the place of criticism. The work is intended to
answer the purpose of a handbook and guide which shall acquaint the
reader with the principal facts and accomplishments in this very
interesting form of composition. The favor so generously accorded to the
"Standard Operas" and "Standard Oratorios" leads the author to hope that
this volume will also be welcome to music-lovers, and will find a place
by the side of its companions in their libraries.

G. P. U.

Chicago, September, 1887.

CONTENTS.

PAGE
PREFACE 3
THE CANTATA 13
BACH 29
Ich Hatte viel Bekümmerniss 31
Gottes Zeit 33
Festa Ascensionis Christi 37
Ein' Feste Burg 38
BALFE 44
Mazeppa 45
BEETHOVEN 48
The Ruins of Athens 49
The Glorious Moment 53
BENEDICT 56
St. Cecilia 57
BENNETT 62
The May Queen 64
The Exhibition Ode 66
BERLIOZ 68
Romeo and Juliet 70
The Damnation of Faust 74
BRAHMS 82
Triumphlied 83
BRUCH 86
Frithjof 87
Salamis 92
Fair Ellen 93
Odysseus 95
BUCK 101
Don Munio 103
Centennial Meditation of Columbia 106
The Golden Legend 109
The Voyage of Columbus 114
The Light of Asia 117
CORDER 123
The Bridal of Triermain 124
COWEN 128
The Sleeping Beauty 129
DVORÁK 134
The Spectre's Bride 136
FOOTE 140
Hiawatha 141
GADE 143
Comala 144
Spring Fantasie 146
The Erl King's Daughter 147
The Crusaders 149
GILCHRIST 153
The Forty-sixth Psalm 154
GLEASON 156
The Culprit Fay 157
The Praise Song To Harmony 161
HANDEL 163
Acis and Galatea 166
Alexander's Feast 173
L'Allegro 178
HATTON 186
Robin Hood 187
HAYDN 191
The Seven Words 194
Ariadne 198
HILLER 201
Song of Victory 203
HOFMANN 205
Melusina 206
LESLIE 209
Holyrood 210
LISZT 215
Prometheus 217
The Bells of Strasburg 221
MACFARREN 226
Christmas 228
MACKENZIE 232
The Story of Sayid 233
Jubilee Ode 237
MASSENET 241
Mary Magdalen 242
MENDELSSOHN 246
The Walpurgis Night 248
Antigone 254
Oedipus at Colonos 259
As the Hart Pants 262
The Gutenberg Fest-Cantata 263
Lauda Sion 265
MOZART 268
King Thamos 270
Davidde Penitente 274
The Masonic Cantatas 276
PAINE 280
Oedipus Tyrannus 281
The Nativity 286
The Realm of Fancy 288
Phoebus, Arise 289
PARKER, H. W. 291
King Trojan 292
PARKER, J. C. D. 295
The Redemption Hymn 296
RANDEGGER 298
Fridolin 299
RHEINBERGER 303
Christophorus 304
Toggenburg 306
ROMBERG 308
Lay of the Bell 309
SCHUBERT 313
Miriam's War Song 314
SCHUMANN 317
Advent Hymn 319
The Pilgrimage of the Rose 321
The Minstrel's Curse 322
SINGER 324
The Landing of the Pilgrims 325
SMART 327
The Bride of Dunkerron 328
King René's Daughter 330
SULLIVAN 332
On Shore and Sea 334
The Golden Legend 335
WAGNER 338
Love Feast of the Apostles 340
WEBER 342
Jubilee Cantata 344
Kampf Und Sieg 346
WHITING 348
The Tale of the Viking 349
APPENDIX 353
INDEX 365

THE STANDARD CANTATAS.

THE CANTATA.

The origin of the cantata is a matter of controversy, but it is clear
that it had its birth in Italy. Adami, an old writer, attributes its
invention to Giovanni Domenico Poliaschi Romano, a papal chapel-singer,
who, it is claimed, wrote several cantatas as early as 1618. The same
writer also asserts that the Cavalier da Spoleto, a singer in the same
service, published cantatas in 1620. Hawkins asserts in one chapter of
his "History of Music" that the invention is due to Carissimi,
chapel-master of the Church of St. Apollinare in Rome, who unquestionably
did an important service for dramatic music by perfecting recitative and
introducing stringed accompaniments; but in a subsequent chapter the
historian states that Barbara Strozzi, a Venetian lady contemporary with
Carissimi, was the inventor, and assigns the year 1653 as the date when
she published certain vocal compositions with the title "Cantate, Ariette
e Duetti," prefixed by an advertisement setting forth that having
invented this form of music, she had published them as an experiment.
Burney takes notice of the claim made for Romano and Da Spoleto, but does
not think it valid, and says: "The first time that I have found the term
'cantata' used for a short narrative lyric poem was in the _Musiche varie
a voce sola del Signor Benedetto Ferrari da Reggio_, printed at Venice,
1638." This, as will be observed, disposes of the Venetian lady's claim,
as it is antedated twenty years, and Burney states his facts from
personal investigation. He mentions several cantatas written about this
period, among them a burlesque one describing the leap of Marcus Curtius
into the gulf. He concedes to Carissimi, however, the transfer of the
cantata from the chamber to the church, and on this point nearly all the
early writers are agreed.

The cantata in its earliest form was a recitative, which speedily
developed into a mixture of recitative and melody for a single voice, and
was suggested by the lyric opera. Burney says:--

"The chief events were related in recitative. In like manner they
received several progressive changes during the last century previous
to their perfection. First, they consisted, like opera scenes, of
little more than recitative, with frequent formal closes, at which the
singer, either accompanied by himself or another performer on a single
instrument, was left at liberty to show his taste and talents."

The form then changed to a single air in triple time, independent of the
recitative, and repeated to the different verses as in a ballad, the
melody being written every time, as the _Da Capo_ was not then in use.[1]
Choron defines the cantata as follows:--

"It is a little poem, which, considered in a literary sense, has no
very determinate character, though it is usually the recital of a
simple and interesting fact interspersed with reflections or the
expression of some particular sentiment. It may be in all styles and
all characters, sacred, profane, heroic, comic, and even ludicrous,
representing the action or feeling of either a single or several
persons. It even sometimes assumes the character of the oratorio."

As applied to recitative, the new form was variously called "recitativo,"
"musica parlante," or "stilo rappresentativo," one of the first works in
which style was "The Complaint of Dido," by the Cavalier Sigismondo
d'India, printed in Venice in 1623. The mixture of recitative and air was
eventually called "ariose cantate;" and with this title several melodies
were printed by Sebastian Enno at Venice, 1655.[2]

The seventeenth century witnessed the rapid perfecting of the cantata in
its early forms by the Italian composers. The best examples are said to
have been those of Carissimi, of whom mention has already been made.
Several of them are preserved in the British Museum and at Oxford; among
them, one written on the death of Mary Queen of Scots. Burney says:--

"Of twenty-two of his cantatas preserved in the Christ Church
collection, Oxon., there is not one which does not offer something that
is still new, curious, and pleasing; but most particularly in the
recitatives, many of which seem the most expressive, affecting, and
perfect that I have seen. In the airs there are frequently sweet and
graceful passages, which more than a hundred years have not impaired."

Of the thirteenth in this collection the same authority says:--

"This single air, without recitative, seems the archetype of almost all
the _arie di cantabile_, the adagios, and pathetic songs, as well as
instrumental, slow movements, that have since been made."

Fra Marc Antonio Cesti, in his later life a monk in the monastery of
Arezzo, and chapel-master of the Emperor Ferdinand III., was a pupil of
Carissimi, and devoted much attention to the cantata, the recitative of
which he greatly improved. One of his most celebrated compositions of
this kind was entitled, "O cara Liberta," and selections from it are
given both by Burney and Hawkins. He must have been one of the jolly
monks of old, for all his cantatas are secular in character, and he was
frequently censured for devoting so much time to theatrical instead of
church music. Luigi Rossi was contemporary with Cesti, and has left
several cantatas which are conspicuous for length and pedantry rather
than for elegance or melodious charm. Giovanni Legrenzi of Bergamo, the
master of Lotti and Gasparini, published twenty-four cantatas in Venice
between 1674 and 1679, which were great favorites in his time. The
celebrated painter Salvator Rosa not only wrote the words for many
cantatas by his musical friends, but it is known that he composed both
words and music to eight. The texts of these works have preserved for
posterity pictures more graphic than any he could paint of his
misanthropical character; for when he is not railing against his mistress
he is launching satires against Nature and mankind in general. In one of
these he complains that the earth is barren and the sun is dark. If he
goes out to see a friend, it always rains. If he goes on shipboard, it
always storms. If he buys provisions at the market, the bones outweigh
the flesh. If he goes to court--

"The attendants at my dress make sport;
Point at my garb, threadbare and shabby,
And shun me, like a leper scabby."

His only wealth is hope, which points to nothing better than "workhouse
or a rope." In the heat of summer he has to trudge in winter clothes. He
cannot even run away from misfortune. In a word, nothing pleases the poor
painter, as is evident from the gloomy moral which "adorns the tale":--

"Then learn from me, ye students all,
Whose wants are great and hopes are small,
That better 'tis at once to die
Than linger thus in penury;
For 'mongst the ills with which we're curst,
To live a beggar is the worst."

In 1703 Giambatista Bassani, of Bologna, published twelve cantatas
devoted to the tender passion, and all of them set to a violin
accompaniment,--a practice first introduced by Scarlatti, of Naples, who
was one of the most prolific writers of his day. The cantata was
Scarlatti's favorite form of composition, and hundreds of them came from
his busy pen, which were noted for their beauty and originality. The
accompaniments were written for the violoncello as well as for the
violin; those for the first-named instrument were so difficult and yet so
excellent that those who could perform them were often thought to have
supernatural assistance.[3] Contemporary with Scarlatti was Francesco
Gasparini, a Roman composer and harpsichord player of such eminence that
Scarlatti sent his son Domenico, who afterwards became famous by his
musical achievements, to study with him. Gasparini wrote twelve
cantatas,--not so scholarly but quite as popular as those by Scarlatti.
As a return for the compliment which Scarlatti had paid him,
Gasparini sent him a cantata, which was the signal for a lively
cantata-correspondence between them, each trying to outdo the other.
Following Gasparini came Bononcini, whose contentions with Handel in
England are familiar to all musical readers. He was the most prolific
cantata-writer of all the Italians next to Scarlatti, and dedicated a
volume of them, in 1721, to the King of England. He also published in
Germany a large number which show great knowledge of instrumentation,
according to the musical historians of his time. Antonio Lotti, his
contemporary, wrote several which are particularly noticeable for their
harmony. His pupil Benedetto Marcello, the illustrious psalm-composer,
excelled his master in this form of music. Two of his cantatas, "Il
Timoteo" (after Dryden's ode) and "Cassandra," were very celebrated. He
was of noble family, and is famous even to this day by his masses,
serenades, and sonnets, and by his beautiful poetical and musical
paraphrase of the Psalms, which was translated into English, German, and
Russian. The Baron d'Astorga, whose "Stabat Mater" is famous, wrote many
cantatas, but they do not reach the high standard of that work. Antonio
Caldara, for many years composer to the Emperor at Vienna, published a
volume of them at Venice in 1699. Porpora, who was a rival of Handel in
England as an opera composer, published and dedicated twelve to the
Prince of Wales in 1735 as a mark of gratitude for the support which he
had given him in his disputes with the testy German.[4] After Pergolesi,
who made himself famous by his "Stabat Mater," and published several
cantatas at Rome, and Handel, who wrote many, which were eclipsed by his
operas and oratorios, and are now hardly known, this style of the cantata
languished, and gradually passed into the form of the concert aria, of
which fine examples are to be found in the music of Mozart, Beethoven,
and Mendelssohn. After the death of Pergolesi, Sarti and Paisiello made
an attempt to revive it, and in so doing prepared the way for the cantata
in its beautiful modern form. In the latter's "Guinone Lucina," written
for the churching of Caroline of Austria, Queen of Naples, and in his
"Dafne ed Alceo" and "Retour de Persée" the melody is intermixed with
choruses for the first time.

Thus far the Italian cantatas have alone been considered; but it must not
be supposed that this form of composition was confined to Italy. In
France it was also a favorite style in the early part of the eighteenth
century. Montclair, Campra, Mouret, Batistin, Clerambault, and Rousseau
excelled in it. M. Ginguené, in the "Encyclopædia Methodique," says of
these composers and their works:--

"They have left collections in which may be discovered among all the
faults of the age, when Italian music was unknown in France, much art
and knowledge of harmony, happy traits of melody, well-worked basses,
and above all recitatives in which the accent of declamation and the
character of the language are strictly observed."

In Germany, however, the cantata at this time was approximating to its
present form. Koch, a celebrated musical scholar of the early part of the
present century, says:--

"The cantata is a lyrical poem set to music in different, alternating
compositions, and sung with the accompaniment of instrumental music.
The various melodies of which the whole is composed are the aria, with
its subordinate species, the recitative or accompaniment, and the
arioso, frequently also intermixed with choruses."

Heydenreich, another writer of the same period, says:--

"The cantata is always lyrical. Its distinctive character lies in the
aptitude of the passions and feelings which it contains to be rendered
by music. The cantata ought to be a harmonious whole of ideas
poetically expressed, concurring to paint a main passion or feeling,
susceptible of various kinds and degrees of musical expression. It
sometimes may have the character of the hymn or ode, sometimes that of
the elegy, or of a mixture of these, in which, however, one particular
emotion must predominate."

The church cantata, according to Du Cange, dates back to 1314; but
subsequent writers have shown that the term prior to the seventeenth
century was used indiscriminately and without reference to any
well-defined style of vocal music, and that as applied to church
compositions it meant the anthem such as we now have, although not as
elaborate. The noblest examples of the sacred cantata are those by
Sebastian Bach, three hundred and eighty in all, over a hundred of which
have been published under the auspices of the Bach-Gesellschaft. They are
written in from four to seven movements for four voices and full
orchestra, usually opening with chorus and closing with a chorale, the
intermediate movements being in the form of recitatives, arias, and
duets. The text of these cantatas is either a literal transcription of
the Gospel or of portions of it. In the latter case the Gospel of the
Sunday for which the cantata was written is introduced entire in the body
of the work as the nucleus around which the great composer grouped the
remaining parts. For instance, the cantata for Sexagesima Sunday turns
upon the parable of the sower, and this being the Gospel for the day is
made its central point. In like manner the cantata for the fourteenth
Sunday after Trinity has for its subject the story of the ten lepers,
which is introduced in recitative form in the middle of the work. The
astonishing industry of Bach is shown by the fact that for nearly five
years he produced a new cantata for each Sunday, in addition to his
numerous fugues, chorales, motets, magnificats, masses, sanctuses,
glorias, and other church music. The artistic sincerity and true genius
of the old master also reveal themselves in the skill with which he
finished these works for the congregation of St. Thomas,--few of whom, it
is to be feared, had any conception of their real merit,--and in the
untiring regularity with which he produced them, unrewarded by the
world's applause, and little dreaming that long years after he had passed
away they would be brought to light again, be published to the world, and
command its admiration and astonishment on account of their beauty and
scholarship.[5] Before passing to the consideration of the cantata in its
present form, the following abridged description of those written by
Bach, taken from Bitter's Life of the composer, will be of interest:--

"The directors who preceded Bach at Leipsic used to choose the cantatas
or motets to be sung in the churches quite arbitrarily, without any
regard to their connection with the rest of the service. But Bach felt
that unless these elaborate pieces of music were really made a means of
edification, they were mere intellectual pastimes suitable for a
concert, but an interruption to divine worship; and he thought that
they could best edify the congregation if their subjects were the
themes to which attention was specially directed in the service and
sermon of the day. He therefore made it a rule to ascertain from the
clergymen of the four churches the texts of the sermons for the
following Sunday, and to choose cantatas on the same or corresponding
texts. As most of the clergy were in the habit of preaching on the
Gospel of the day, the service thus became a harmonious whole, and the
attention of the congregation was not divided between a variety of
subjects. The clergyman of highest standing at Leipsic, Superintendent
Deyling, a preacher of great eloquence and theological learning,
co-operated heartily with Bach in this scheme. A series of cantatas for
every Sunday and festival for five years--about three hundred and
eighty in all--was composed by Bach, chiefly during the first years of
his stay at Leipsic. Unfortunately many of these are lost; but one
hundred and eighty-six for particular days, and thirty-two without any
days specified, still remain. Their music is so completely in character
with the subject of the words as to form a perfect exposition of the
text. In some the orchestral introductions and accompaniments are made
illustrative of the scene of the text; as for instance in one on
Christ's appearing to His disciples in the evening after His
resurrection, the introduction is of a soft, calming character,
representing the peacefulness of evening and of the whole scene.
Another, on the text 'Like as the rain and snow fall from heaven,' is
introduced by a symphony in which the sound of gently-falling rain is
imitated. In others the instrumental parts and some of the voices
express the feelings excited by meditation on the words. Sometimes, in
the midst of a chorus in which the words of the text are repeated, and,
as it were, commented on, a single voice, with the accompaniment of a
few instruments, breaks off into some well-known hymn in a similar
strain of thought or feeling."

Handel in his younger days wrote many cantatas for the church, though
they are now but little known. The entire list numbers one hundred and
fifty. On his return from England to his post of chapel-master at Hanover
in 1711 he composed twelve, known as the Hanover cantatas, for the
Princess Caroline, the words written by the Abbé Hortentio Mauro, to
which no objection was offered by Handel's master and patron,
notwithstanding he was a Lutheran prince. Several written in England are
still preserved in the royal collections. On Holy Week of the year 1704,
the same week in which Reinhardt Kaiser brought out his famous Passion
oratorio, "The Bleeding and Dying Jesus," Handel's Passion cantata was
first produced. Kaiser's work had been denounced as secular by the
pastors, because it did not contain the words of Holy Scripture. Handel's
was founded on the nineteenth chapter of St. John, and thus escaped the
pulpit denunciation. This cantata is sometimes called the First Passion
Oratorio, the second having been written at Hamburg in 1716.[6] In 1707
Handel was in Florence, where he wrote several cantatas, and thence went
to Rome, where he produced some church music in the same form, notably
the "Dixit Dominus," for five voices and orchestra; "Nisi Dominus," also
for five voices; and "Laudate pueri," for solos and full orchestral
accompaniment. The famous anthems written for the private chapel of James
Brydges, Duke of Chandos, familiarly known as the Chandos Anthems, are in
reality cantatas, as each one is preceded by an overture and in its
structural form comprises solos, choruses, and instrumentation for full
band and choir. It is also noteworthy that it was during Handel's
residence at the Duke's palace at Cannons that he wrote his first English
oratorio, the legitimate successor of the Chandos Anthems, and the
precursor of the great works destined to immortalize his name.

The cantatas left by Haydn are mainly secular in character; but it may
well be imagined that during the days of his early married life, when his
fanatical and termagant spouse was forcing him to write so much music for
the priests and monks whom she entertained so sumptuously below-stairs
while he was laboring above, more than one cantata must have come from
his pen, which would have been preserved had he not reluctantly parted
company with them to pacify his wife.

The term "cantata," as it is now used, is very elastic, and covers a
range of compositions which are too large to be considered as dramatic
arias or ballads,--though ballads are sometimes written for various
voices and orchestra,--and too small to be called operas or oratorios. It
can best be defined, perhaps, as a lyric narrative, sacred, didactic, or
dramatic in character, set to music for the concert stage only, being
without _dramatis personæ_ in the theatrical acceptation of those words.
Its general form is that of the oratorio, being for solo voices, usually
the quartet, full chorus, and orchestra, though its shortness as compared
with the oratorio adapts it to performance by a small chorus, and
sometimes with only piano accompaniment. Among the most perfect forms of
the modern cantatas are such works as Mendelssohn's "Walpurgis Night,"
Sterndale Bennett's "May Queen," Max Bruch's "Odysseus" and "Frithjof's
Saga," Cowen's "Sleeping Beauty," Gade's "Comala," Hiller's "Song of
Victory," Romberg's somewhat antiquated "Song of the Bell," Sullivan's
"Golden Legend," Randegger's "Fridolin," and Dudley Buck's "Don Munio"
and "Light of Asia." But besides such as these there are numerous other
works, not usually classed as cantatas, which clearly belong to the same
musical family; such as Berlioz's "Damnation of Faust," Brahms's
"Triumphlied," Mendelssohn's settings of various Psalms, Handel's "Acis
and Galatea" and "Alexander's Feast," Hofmann's "Melusina," Liszt's
"Prometheus," Rheinberger's "Toggenberg," Schubert's "Song of Miriam,"
Schumann's ballads and "Advent Hymn," and Weber's "Kampf und Sieg." These
and others of the same kin are drawn upon as illustrations and for
analysis in the pages which follow.

Considering the possibilities of the cantata, its adaptability to every
form of narrative, and the musical inducements it holds out, particularly
in these days, when a new opera or oratorio must be of extraordinary
merit to suit the public, it is somewhat remarkable that no more of them
are written. Mr. Charles Barnard has made this point very aptly and
forcibly in a short article printed in the "Century" for January, 1886,
in which he urges the cantata form of composition upon our writers, and
makes many excellent suggestions.[7] It is certainly an inviting field,
especially to American composers, among whom but three or four have as
yet produced works of this kind possessing real merit.

[1] Its first use is to be found in the opera of "Enea," performed at
Genoa in 1676. Before 1680 it was universally adopted.

[2] It is noteworthy that in this volume occur for the first time the
musical terms "adagio," "piu adagio," "affetuoso," "presto," and
"allegro." In the "Cantate da Camera a voce sola," published at
Bologna (1677) by Gio. Bat. Mazzaferrata, the terms "vivace,"
"largo," and "ardito" are also found for the first time.

[3] Geminiani used to relate that Franceschelli, a celebrated performer
on the violoncello at the beginning of this century, accompanied one
of these cantatas at Rome so admirably, while Scarlatti was at the
harpsichord, that the company, being good Catholics, and living in a
country where miraculous powers have not yet ceased, were firmly
persuaded it was not Franceschelli who had played the violoncello,
but an angel that had descended and assumed his shape.--_Burney's
History_, vol. iv. p. 169 (1789).

[4] Doctor Arbuthnot, in a humorous pamphlet called out by the operatic
war, entitled "Harmony in an Uproar," calls Handel the Nightingale,
and Porpora the Cuckoo.

[5] It is curious to remember that the sacred cantatas were not composed
for universal fame or for a musical public, but for the use of
congregations who probably looked on them as a necessary part of the
service, and thought little about the merits of their composition. In
those days art-criticism was in its infancy, and they were scarcely
noticed beyond the walls of Leipsic till after the composer's
death.--_Bitter's Life of Bach_.

[6] Handel's Second German Passion, as it is now generally called,
differs entirely from the earlier Passion according to St. John, and
bears no analogy at all to the Passion Music of Sebastian Bach. The
choruses are expressive or vigorous in accordance with the nature of
the words; but none exhibit any very striking form of contrapuntal
development; nor do they ever rise to the grandeur of the Utrecht Te
Deum or Jubilate.--_Rockstro's Life of Handel_.

[7] The following list of cantatas by Americans hardly sustains Mr.
Barnard in his assertion that there are but a few of them: Baker, B.
F., "Burning Ship;" "Storm King."--Bechel, J. C., "Pilgrim's
Progress;" "The Nativity;" "Ruth."--Bradbury, W. B.,
"Esther."--Brandeis, F., "The Ring."--Bristow, G. F., "The Pioneers;"
"No More."--Buck, Dudley, "Don Munio;" "Centennial;" "Easter
Cantatas;" "The Golden Legend;" "Light of Asia;" "Voyage of
Columbus."--Butterfield, J. A., "Belshazzar;" "Ruth."--Chadwick, G.
W., "The Viking's Last Voyage."--Damrosch, Leopold, "Ruth and Naomi;"
"Sulamith."--Foote, A., "Hiawatha."--Gilchrist, W. W., "Forty-sixth
Psalm;" "The Rose."--Gleason, F. G., "God our Deliverer;" "Culprit
Fay;" "Praise of Harmony."--Hamerik, A., "Christmas
Cantata."--Leavitt, W. J. D., "The Lord of the Sea;" "Cambyses; or,
the Pearl of Persia."--Marsh, S. B., "The Saviour;" "King of the
Forest."--Paine, J. K., "Oedipus Tyrannus;" "The Nativity;" "Phoebus,
Arise;" "Realm of Fancy."--Parker, J. G., "Redemption Hymn."--Parker,
H. W., "King Trojan."--Pratt, S. G., "Inca's Downfall."--Root, G. F.,
"Flower Queen;" "Daniel;" "Pilgrim Fathers;" "Belshazzar's Feast;"
"Haymakers;" "Song Tournament;" "David."--Singer, Otto, "Landing of
the Pilgrim Fathers;" "Festival Ode."--Trajetta, Philip, "The
Christian's Joy;" "Prophecy;" "The Nativity;" "Day of
Rest."--Whiting, G. E., "Dream Pictures;" "Tale of the Viking;"
"Lenora;" and many others.

BACH.

Johann Sebastian Bach, the most eminent of the world's organ-players and
contrapuntists, was born at Eisenach, March 21, 1685, and was the most
illustrious member of a long line of musicians, the Bach family having
been famous almost from time immemorial for its skill in music. He first
studied the piano with his brother, Johann Christoph, and the organ with
Reinecke in Hamburg, and Buxtehude in Lübeck. In 1703 he was court
musician in Weimar, and afterwards was engaged as organist in Arnstadt
and Mühlhausen. In 1708 he was court organist, and in 1714 concert-master
in Weimar. In 1718 he was chapel-master to the Prince von Köthen, and in
1723 was appointed music-director and cantor at the St. Thomas School in
Leipsic,--a position which he held during the remainder of his life. He
has left for the admiration of posterity an almost endless list of vocal
and instrumental works, including cantatas, chorales, motets,
magnificats, masses, fugues, sonatas, and fantasies, the "Christmas
Oratorio," and several settings of the Passion, of which the most famous
are the "St. John" and "St. Matthew," the latter of which Mendelssohn
re-introduced to the world in 1829, after it had slumbered an entire
century. His most famous instrumental work is the "Well-tempered
Clavichord,"--a collection of forty-eight fugues and preludes, which was
written for his second wife, Anna Magdalena Bach, to whom he also
dedicated a large number of piano pieces and songs. His first wife was
his cousin, Maria Barbara Bach, the youngest daughter of Johann Michael
Bach, a composer of no common ability. By these two wives he had
twenty-one children, of whom the most celebrated were Carl Phillipp
Emanuel, born in 1714, known as the "Berlin Bach;" Johann Christoph
Friedrich, born in 1732, the "Bücheburger Bach;" and Johann Christian,
born in 1735, who became famous as the "London Bach." Large as the family
was, it is now extinct. Bach was industrious, simple, honest, and
God-fearing, like all his family. He was an incessant and laborious
writer from necessity, as his compensation was hardly sufficient to
maintain his large family, and nearly all his music was prepared for the
service of the church by contract. The prominent characteristics of his
work are profound knowledge, the clearest statements of form, strength of
logical sequences, imposing breadth, and deep religious sentiment. The
latter quality was the outcome of his intense religious nature. Upon
everyone of his principal compositions he inscribed "S. D. G.," "to the
glory of God alone." He died July 28, 1750, and was buried at Leipsic;
but no cross or stone marks the spot where he lies. His last composition
was the beautiful chorale, "Wenn wir in höchsten Nöthen sein," freely
translated, "When my last hour is close at hand," as it was written in
his last illness. The only record of his death is contained in the
official register: "A man, aged sixty-seven, M. Johann Sebastian Bach,
musical director and singing-master at the St. Thomas School, was carried
to his grave in the hearse, July 30, 1750."

Ich hatte viel Bekümmerniss.

The cantata with the above title, best known in English as "My Heart was
full of Heaviness," was the first sacred piece in this form which Bach
wrote. Its date is 1714, in which year he was living at Weimar, and its
composition grew out of a difficulty which he had with the elders of the
Liebfrauenkirche at Halle, touching his application for the position of
organist. It occasioned him great sorrow, and it was while in this sad
plight that he wrote the cantata. It was composed for the third Sunday
after Trinity, June 17, and consists of eleven numbers,--an instrumental
prelude, four choruses, three arias, a duet, and two recitatives.

The prelude, which is brief and quiet in character, introduces the
opening chorus ("Deep within my Heart was Sorrowing and great
Affliction"), which in turn leads to the first aria ("Sighing, Mourning,
Sorrow, Tears waste away my troubled Heart"), a tender and beautiful
number for soprano, with oboe and string accompaniment. It is followed by
the tenor recitative and aria, "Why hast Thou, O my God, in my sore Need
so turned Thy Face from me?" in which the feeling of sorrow is
intensified in utterance. The chorus, "Why, my Soul, art thou vexed?" a
very pathetic number, closes the mournful but beautiful first part of the
cantata.

The second part is more tranquil and hopeful. It opens with a duet for
soprano and bass, the two parts representing the soul and Christ, and
sustaining a most expressive dialogue, leading up to a richly harmonized
chorus ("O my Soul, be content and be thou peaceful") in which a chorale
is introduced with consummate skill. A graceful tenor aria with a
delightful and smoothly flowing accompaniment ("Rejoice, O my Soul,
change Weeping to Smiling") follows and leads to the final number, which
is based on the same subject as that of the "Hallelujah" in Handel's
"Messiah." All the voices give out the words, "The Lamb that for us is
slain, to Him will we render Power and Glory," with majestic effect;
after which the solo bass utters the theme, "Power and Glory and Praise
be unto Him forevermore," introducing the "Hallelujah," which closes the
work in a burst of tremendous power, by voices and instruments.

Gottes Zeit.

During the first half of the period in which Bach resided at Weimar,
occupying the position of court and chamber musician to Duke Wilhelm
Ernst, he wrote three cantatas in the old church form which are notable
as being the last he composed before adopting the newer style, and as the
most perfect of that kind extant. The first of these, "Nach dir, Herr,
verlanget mich," is based upon the first two verses of the Twenty-fifth
Psalm. The second, "Aus der Tiefe rufe ich," includes the whole of the
One hundred and thirtieth Psalm and two verses of the hymn "Herr Jesu
Christ, du höchstes Gut." The third and most famous of the trio, "Gottes
Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit" ("God's time is the best of all"), is
generally known as the "Actus Tragicus," and sometimes as the "Mourning
Cantata." Of its origin Spitta says:--

"Judging by its contents it was designed for the mourning for some man,
probably of advanced age, to whom the song of Simeon could be suitably
applied. No such death took place in the ducal house at this time, for
Prince Johann Ernst died when a youth, and also when Bach's style of
composition had reached a different stage. Possibly the cantata has
reference to Magister Philipp Grossgebauer, the rector of the Weimar
school before its reorganization, who died in 1711; at least, I can
find no other suitable occasion. The contrast between the spirit of the
Old and New Testaments,--between the wrath of an avenging God and the
atoning love of Christ,--which had already appeared in the One hundred
and thirtieth Psalm, is the germ and root of this cantata to such a
degree that it is evident that Bach had fully realized by this time how
fertile a subject for treatment it was. It contains no chorus of such
depth and force as those of the One hundred and thirtieth Psalm. Its
character is much more entirely individual and personal, and so it has
a depth and intensity of expression which reach the extreme limits of
possibility of representation by music. The arrangement of the poetic
material is most excellent; it does not wholly consist of Scripture
texts and verses of hymns; and in several fit and expressive thoughts,
which are freely interspersed, we can almost recognize Bach's own hand.
If such be the case, the whole arrangement of the poetry may with
reason be ascribed to him."

The introduction to the work is a quiet, tender movement in sonata form,
written for two flutes, two viol-da-gambas and figured bass, which gives
out some of the themes in the middle of the cantata. The opening chorus
("God's own Time is the best, ever best of all. In Him we live, move, and
have our Being, as long as He wills. And in Him we die at His good Time")
is very descriptive in character, opening with a slow and solemn
movement, then passing to a quick fugue, and closing with phrases of
mournful beauty to suit the last sentence of the text. A tenor solo
follows, set to the words, "O Lord, incline us to consider that our Days
are numbered; make us apply our Hearts unto Wisdom," and accompanied by
the flutes, leading into a mournful aria for the bass, which forms the
second part of the tenor solo ("Set in order thine House, for thou shalt
die and not live"). The choir resumes with a new theme ("It is the old
Decree, Man, thou art mortal"), in which the lower voices carry a double
fugue, the soprano sings alone ("Yea, come, Lord Jesus"), and the
instruments have the melody of the old hymn:--

"I have cast all my care on God,
E'en let Him do what seems Him good;
Whether I die, or whether live,
No more I'll strive.
But all my will to Him will give."

Of this effective movement and its successor Spitta says:--

"The design is clear. The curse of death has been changed into blessing
by the coming of Christ, and that which mankind dreaded before, they
now stretch out entreating hands to; the bliss of the new condition of
things shines out in supernatural glory against the dark background of
a dispensation that has been done away. This is the idea of the
concerted vocal parts; and the fact that thousands upon thousands have
agreed in the joy of this faith is shown by the chorale tune now
introduced; for to the understanding listener its worldless sounds
convey the whole import of the hymn which speaks so sweetly of comfort
in the hour of death, sounds which must recall to every pious heart all
the feelings they had stirred when, among the chances and changes of
life, this hymn had been heard,--feelings of sympathy with another's
grief or of balm to the heart's own anxiety."

The alto voice follows with the words spoken on the cross ("Into Thy
Hands my Spirit I commend"), to which the bass replies in an arioso
("Thou shalt be with Me to-day in Paradise"). The next number is a
chorale ("In Joy and Peace I pass away whenever God willeth") sung by the
alto, the bass continuing its solo at the same time through a portion of
the chorale. The final chorus is the so-called fifth Gloria:--

"All glory, praise, and majesty
To Father, Son, and Spirit be,
The holy, blessed Trinity;
Whose power to us
Gives victory
Through Jesus Christ. Amen."

The "Actus Tragicus" was one of the youthful compositions of Bach, but it
has always attracted the notice of the best musical critics. It was a
great favorite with Mendelssohn. Spitta says:--

"It is a work of art well rounded off and firm in its formation, and
warmed by the deepest intensity of feeling even in the smallest
details."

Hauptmann writes to Jahn:--

"Yesterday, at the Euterpe concert, Bach's 'Gottes Zeit' was given.
What a marvellous intensity pervades it, without a bar of
conventionality! Of the cantatas known to me, I know none in which such
design and regard are had to the musical import and its expression."

Festa Ascensionis Christi.

The cantata beginning with the words, "Wer da glaubet und getauft wird"
("Whoso believeth and is baptized"), commonly known as the Ascension
cantata, was written for four voices, with accompaniment of two oboes,
two violins, viola, and "continuo,"--the latter word implying a bass
part, the harmonies indicated by figures from which the organist built up
his own accompaniment. The original score has been lost; but it has been
reconstructed from the parts, which are preserved in the Royal Library at
Berlin.

The cantata is in five numbers. A short prelude of a quiet and cheerful
character introduces the stately opening chorus ("Who believeth and
obeyeth will be blest forever"). Another brief prelude prepares the way
for the brilliant tenor aria ("Of Love, Faith is the Pledge and Token"),
which leads up to the chorale, "Lord God, my Father, holy One," based
upon the old chorale, "Wie schön leucht uns der Morgenstern" ("How
brightly shines the Morning Star"), which has always been a favorite in
the church service, and which more than one composer has chosen for the
embellishment of his themes. The chorale is not employed in its original
form, but is elaborated with all the contrapuntal skill for which Bach
was so famous. The next number is a short recitative for the bass voice
("Ye Mortals, hear, all ye who would behold the Face of God"), and leads
to a stately bass aria ("Through Faith the Soul has Eagle's Pinions").
The cantata closes, after the customary manner of Bach, with a strong,
earnest chorale ("Oh, give me Faith, my Father!"), in plain, solid
harmony, for the use of the congregation, thus forming an effective
devotional climax to the work.

Ein' Feste Burg.

"A safe stronghold our God is still,
A trusty shield and weapon;
He'll help us clear from all the ill
That hath us now o'ertaken.
The ancient Prince of Hell
Hath risen with purpose fell;
Strong mail of craft and power
He weareth in this hour.
On Earth is not his fellow.

* * * * *

"And were this world all devils o'er,
And watching to devour us,
We lay it not to heart so sore,
Not they can overpower us.
And let the Prince of Ill
Look grim as e'er he will,
He harms us not a whit;
For why? His doom is writ,
A word shall quickly slay him."

There is now but little question that Martin Luther not only wrote the
words but the music of the grand old hymn, the first and third stanzas of
which, taken from Carlyle's free and rugged translation, are given above.
Sleidan, a contemporary historian, indeed says that "Luther made a tune
for it singularly suited to the words and adapted to stir the heart." The
date of its composition is a matter of controversy; but it is clear that
it must have been either in 1529 or 1530, and most writers agree that it
was just before the Diet at Augsburg, where it was sung. Niederer, in a
work published at Nuremberg, 1759, fixes the date as 1530, and finds it
in Preussen's psalm-book, printed in 1537. Winterfeld observes it for the
first time in the "Gesangbuch" of the composer Walther, a friend of
Luther. Its usual title is, "Der XLVI. Psalm: Deus noster Refugium et
virtus, pp. D., Martin Luther." It matters little, however, the exact
year in which the sturdy old Reformer wrote the hymn which has stirred
the human heart more than any other. It is indissolubly connected with
his name, and every line of it is a reflex of his indomitable and
God-fearing nature. Heine and Carlyle have paid it noble tributes. The
German poet says:--

"The hymn which he composed on his way to Worms,[8] and which he and
his companions chanted as they entered that city, is a regular
war-song. The old cathedral trembled when it heard these novel sounds.
The very rooks flew from their nests in the towers. That hymn, the
Marseillaise of the Reformation, has preserved to this day its potent
spell over German hearts."

Carlyle still more forcibly says:--

"With words he had now learned to make music; it was by deeds of love
or heroic valor that he spoke freely. Nevertheless, though in imperfect
articulation, the same voice, if we listen well, is to be heard also in
his writings, in his poems. The one entitled 'Ein' feste Burg,'
universally regarded as the best, jars upon our ears; yet there is
something in it like the sound of Alpine avalanches, or the first
murmur of earthquakes, in the very vastness of which dissonance a
higher unison is revealed to us. Luther wrote this song in times of
blackest threatenings, which, however, could in no sense become a time
of despair. In these tones, rugged and broken as they are, do we hear
the accents of that summoned man, who answered his friends' warning not
to enter Worms, in this wise: 'Were there as many devils in Worms as
these tile roofs, I would on.'"

It was the battle-song of the Reformation, stirring men to valiant deeds;
and it did equal service in sustaining and consoling the Reformers in
their darkest hours. "Come, Philip, let us sing the Forty-sixth Psalm,"
was Luther's customary greeting to Melanchthon, when the gentler spirit
quailed before approaching danger, or success seemed doubtful. In music
it has frequently served an important purpose. Not only Bach, but other
composers of his time arranged it. Mendelssohn uses it with powerful
effect in his Reformation symphony. Nicolai employs it in his Fest
overture. Meyerbeer more than once puts it in the mouth of Marcel the
Huguenot, when dangers gather about his master, though the Huguenots were
not Lutherans but Calvinists; and Wagner introduces it with overwhelming
power in his triumphal Kaiser March.

Bitter, in his Life of Bach, says:--

"The bicentenary Reformation Festival was celebrated in October and
November, 1717, and at Weimar especially it was, as an old chronicle
tells us, a great jubilee. Bach composed his cantata, 'Ein' feste
Burg,' for the occasion. In this piece it is clear that he had passed
through his first phase of development and reached a higher stage of
perfection."

Winterfeld is inclined to the same belief; but Spitta, in his exhaustive
biography of Bach, argues that it must have been written either for the
Reformation Festival of 1730, or for the two hundredth anniversary of
Protestantism in Saxony, May 17, 1739. The former date would bring its
composition a year after the completion of his great Passions music, and
four years before his still more famous "Christmas Oratorio,"--a period
when he was at the height of his productive power; which favors the
argument of Spitta, that in 1717 a chorus like the opening one in the
cantata was beyond his capacity.[9] In the year 1730 Bach wrote three
Jubilee cantatas, rearranged from earlier works, and Spitta claims that
it was only about this period that he resorted to this practice. Further,
he adds that "the Chorale Chorus [the opening number], in its grand
proportions and vigorous flow, is the natural and highest outcome of
Bach's progressive development, and he never wrote anything more
stupendous."

The cantata has eight numbers, three choruses and five solos. The solo
numbers are rearranged from an earlier cantata, "Alles was von Gott
geboren" ("All that is of God's creation"), written for the third Sunday
in Lent, March 15, 1716. The opening number is a colossal fugue based
upon a variation on the old melody and set to the first verse of the
Luther hymn. It is followed by a duet for soprano and bass, including the
second verse of the hymn and an interpolated verse by Franck,[10] who
prepared the text. The third and fourth numbers are a bass recitative and
soprano aria, the words also by Franck, leading up to the second great
chorale chorus set to the words of the third stanza of the hymn,

"And were the world all devils o'er,"

of which Spitta says:--

"The whole chorus sings the _Cantus firmus_ in unison, while the
orchestra plays a whirl of grotesque and wildly leaping figures,
through which the chorus makes its way undistracted and never misled,
an illustration of the third verse, as grandiose and characteristic as
it is possible to conceive."

The sixth number is a recitative for tenor followed by a duet for alto
and tenor ("How blessed then are they who still on God are calling"). The
work closes with a repetition of the chorale, set to the last verse of
the hymn, sung without accompaniment. The cantata is colossal in its
proportions, and is characterized throughout by the stirring spirit and
bold vigorous feeling of the Reformation days whose memories it
celebrated.

[8] This assumption, repeated by others, grows out of the similarity of
sentiment in the third stanza to that of Luther's famous reply when
he was urged not to attend the Diet of Worms.

[9] There is yet a fourth rearrangement, which we may assign to 1730. The
assertion is no doubt well founded that in this year the celebration
of the Reformation Festival was considered of special importance, and
kept accordingly; and it is evident that the cantata "Ein' feste
Burg" must have been intended for some such extraordinary
solemnity.--_Spitta_, vol. ii. p. 470.

The Reformation Festival had no doubt a very distinct poetical
sentiment of its own; and when any special occasion took the
precedence, as in 1730 and 1739, the years of Jubilee, it would be
misleading to seek for any close connection between the sermon and
the cantata. Thus the cantata, "Ein' feste Burg," may very well have
been connected with the sermon in 1730; still, it is possible that it
was not written till 1739.--_Ibid._, vol. iii. p. 283.

[10] Salomo Franck, a poet of more than ordinary ability, was born at
Weimar, March 6, 1759. He published several volumes of sacred lyrics.

BALFE.

Michael William Balfe was born at Dublin, Ireland, May 15, 1808. Of all
the English opera-composers, his career was the most versatile, as his
success, for a time at least, was the most remarkable. At seven years of
age he scored a polacca of his own for a band. In his eighth year he
appeared as a violinist, and in his tenth was composing ballads. At
sixteen he was playing in the Drury Lane orchestra, and about this time
began taking lessons in composition. In 1825, aided by the generosity of
a patron, he went to Italy, where for three years he studied singing and
counterpoint. In his twentieth year he met Rossini, who offered him an
engagement as first barytone at the Italian opera in Paris. He made his
début with success in 1828, and at the close of his engagement returned
to Italy, where he appeared again on the stage. About this time
(1829-1830) he began writing Italian operas, and before he left the
country had produced three which met with considerable success. In 1835
he returned to England; and it was in this year that his first English
opera, "The Siege of Rochelle," was brought out. It was played
continuously at Drury Lane for over three months. In 1835 appeared his
"Maid of Artois;" in 1837, "Catharine Grey" and "Joan of Arc;" and in
1838, "Falstaff." During these years he was still singing in concerts and
opera, and in 1840 undertook the management of the Lyceum. His finest
works were produced after this date,--"The Bohemian Girl," in 1843; "The
Enchantress," in 1844; "The Rose of Castile," "La Zingara," and
"Satanella," in 1858; and "The Puritan's Daughter" in 1861. His last
opera was "The Knight of the Leopard," known in Italian as "Il
Talismano," which has also been performed in English as "The Talisman."
He married Mademoiselle Rosen, a German singer, whom he met in Italy in
1835. His daughter Victoire, who subsequently married Sir John Crampton,
and afterwards the Duc de Frias, also appeared as a singer in 1856. Balfe
died Oct. 20, 1870, upon his own estate in Hertfordshire.

Mazeppa.

The cantata of "Mazeppa," the words written by Jessica Rankin, was one of
the last productions of Balfe, having been produced in 1862, a year after
"The Puritan's Daughter," and several years after he had passed his
musical prime. The text is based upon the familiar story as told by Byron
in his poem of the wild ride of the page of King Casimir, "The Ukraine's
hetman, calm and bold," and of the

"noble steed,
A Tartar of the Ukraine breed,
Who looked as though the speed of thought
Was in his limbs."

The main incidents in the story--the guilty love of the page Mazeppa for
the Count Palatine's Theresa, his surprise and seizure by the spies, her
mysterious fate, the wild flight of the steed with his wretched load
through forest and over desert, and the final rescue by the Cossack
maid--are preserved, but liberties of every description are taken in the
recital of the narrative. It is but a feeble transcript of Byron's
glowing verse, and in its diluted form is but a vulgar story of ordinary
love, jealousy, and revenge.

The cantata comprises twelve numbers. The first is a prelude in triplets
intended to picture the gallop of the steed, a common enough device since
the days when Virgil did it much better without the aid of musical
notation, in his well-known line,--

"Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum."

It leads to a stirring chorus which is followed by still another, based
upon a very pleasant melody. The third number is a solo for barytone, in
which the Count gives expression to his jealousy, which brings us to the
heroine, who makes her appearance in a florid number. The next is a duet
for Theresa and Mazeppa, followed by a solo for the tenor (Mazeppa) which
is very effective. The chorus then re-enter and indicate the madness of
the Count in words, the following sample of which will show their
unsingableness:--

"Revenge fires his turbulent soul;
No power his boundless rage can control."

The eighth number is another duet for the Countess and Mazeppa in the
conventional Italian style. It is followed by a graceful aria for tenor,
which leads up to the best number in the work, a trio in canon form. A
final aria by the Count leads to the last chorus, in which the repetition
of the triplet gallop forebodes the ride into the desert and the
punishment of the page. As might be inferred from the description, the
cantata is like Hamlet with _Hamlet_ left out. There is very little of
Mazeppa and his Tartar steed in the work, but very much of the jealousy
and revenge which lead up to the penalty.

BEETHOVEN.

Ludwig von Beethoven was born Dec. 16, 1770, at Bonn, Germany. His father
was a court-singer in the Chapel of the Elector of Cologne. The great
composer studied in Vienna with Haydn, with whom he did not always agree,
however, and afterwards with Albrechtsberger. His first symphony appeared
in 1801,--his earlier symphonies, in what is called his first period,
being written in the Mozart style. His only opera, "Fidelio," for which
he wrote four overtures, was first brought out in Vienna, in 1805; his
oratorio, "Christ on the Mount of Olives," in 1812; and his colossal
Ninth Symphony, with its choral setting of Schiller's "Ode to Joy," in
1824. In addition to his symphonies, his opera, oratorios, and masses,
and the immortal series of piano sonatas, which were almost revelations
in music, he developed chamber music to an extent far beyond that reached
by his predecessors, Mozart and Haydn. His symphonies exhibit surprising
power, a marvellous comprehension of the deeper feelings in life, and the
influences of nature, both human and physical. He wrote with the deepest
earnestness, alike in the passion and the repose of his music, and he
invested it also with a genial humor as well as with the highest
expression of pathos. His works are epic in style. He was the great
tone-poet of music. His subjects were always lofty and dignified, and to
their treatment he brought not only a profound knowledge of musical
technicality, but intense sympathy with the innermost feelings of human
nature, for he was a humanitarian in the broadest sense. By the common
consent of the musical world he stands at the head of all composers since
his time, and has always been their guide and inspiration. He died March
26, 1827, in the midst of a raging thunder-storm,--one of his latest
utterances being a recognition of the "divine spark" in Schubert's music.

The Ruins of Athens.

The most important compositions by Beethoven in 1811 were the music to
two dramatic works written by the poet Kotzebue to celebrate the opening
of the new theatre at Pesth, Hungary. One of these was a prologue in one
act with overture and choruses, entitled "König Stephan,[11] Ungarn's
erster Wohlthäter" ("King Stephen, Hungary's first Benefactor"); the
other, an allegorical sketch, called "The Ruins of Athens," the subject
of which is thus concisely stated by Macfarren:--

"Minerva has been since the golden age of Grecian art, the glorious
epoch of Grecian liberty, for some or other important offence against
the Olympian tribunal, the particulars of which I am unable to furnish,
fettered with chains of heaven-wrought adamant by the omnipotent
thunderer within a rock impenetrable alike to the aspirations of man
and to the intelligence of the goddess, a rock through which neither
his spirit of inquiry could approach, nor her wisdom diffuse itself
upon the world. The period of vengeance is past; Jove relents, and the
captive deity is enfranchised. The first steps of her freedom naturally
lead Minerva to the scene of her ancient greatness. She finds Athens,
her Athens, her especially beloved and most carefully cherished city,
in ruins, the descendants of her fostered people enslaved to a
barbarous and fanatic race; the trophies of her former splendor, the
wrecks of that art which is the example and the regret of all time,
appropriated to the most degrading purposes of vulgar householdry; and
the frenzied worshippers of a faith that knows not the divine presence
in its most marvellous manifestation, the intellect of man. Here is no
longer the home of wisdom and the arts; so the liberated goddess
proceeds to Pesth, where she establishes anew her temple in the new
theatre, and presides over a triumphal procession in honor of the
Emperor, its patron, under whose auspices the golden age is to prevail
again."

After the opening performances the music to "King Stephen" was laid aside
until 1841, when it was given in Vienna; but the after-piece, "The Ruins
of Athens," was presented again during Beethoven's lifetime upon the
occasion of the opening of a theatre in that city. The new text, which
was prepared for it by Carl Meisl, was entitled "Die Weihe des Hauses"
("The Dedication of the House"), and Beethoven wrote for it the overture
which is now so famous, solos for soprano and violin, and a final chorus
with dances.

The music to the "Ruins of Athens" comprises eight numbers. The overture
is very light and unpretentious, and by many critics, among them
Ferdinand Ries, Beethoven's pupil, has been deemed unworthy of the
composer. Thayer says:--

"When the overture was first played at Leipsic, people could hardly
trust their ears, could hardly believe it to be the work of the author
of the symphonies, of the overtures to 'Coriolan,' 'Egmont,' and
'Leonore' (Fidelio)."

The opening number is a chorus ("Daughter of mighty Jove, awake!"), which
is followed by a beautiful duet ("Faultless, yet hated"), voicing the
lament of two Greek slaves for the destruction of their temples and the
degradation of their land. The duet is very pathetic in character, and
the melody, carried by the two voices, leaves an impression of sadness
which cannot be resisted. The third number is the well-known chorus of
Dervishes sung in unison by tenors and basses, thus forming a kind of
choral chant. The melody is a weird one, and full of local color, but its
powerful effect is gained by the manner of treatment. It begins
pianissimo and is gradually worked to the extreme pitch of true Dervish
delirium, culminating in the exclamation, "Great Prophet, hail!" and then
gradually subsiding until it dies away, apparently from the exhaustion of
such fervor. It is followed by the familiar Turkish march, founded on the
theme of the Variations in D, op. 76, very simple in construction,
Oriental in its character throughout, and peculiarly picturesque in
effect. After an instrumental movement behind the scenes, a triumphal
march and chorus ("Twine ye a Garland") is introduced. The seventh number
is a recitative and aria by the high priest with chorus, which lead to a
beautifully melodious chorus ("Susceptible Hearts"). An adagio aria for
bass ("Deign, great Apollo") and a vigorous chorus ("Hail, our King")
bring the work to a close. The piece was first brought out in England by
Mendelssohn in 1844 at one of the Philharmonic Society's concerts; and
ten or twelve years later an English version of it was performed at the
Prince's Theatre, when the Royal Exchange and statue of Wellington were
substituted for the Pesth Theatre, and Shakspeare took the place of the
Emperor of Austria, concerning the good taste of which Macfarren pithily
says:--

"Modifications admirably adapted to the commercial character and the
blind vainglory that so eminently mark the British nation."

[11] Born in the year 977 at Gran, and known in Austrian and Hungarian
history as Saint Stephen.

The Glorious Moment.

In September, 1814, the same year in which the Allies entered Paris, the
Vienna Congress met to adjust the relations of the various European
States. It was an occasion of great moment in the ancient city,--this
gathering of sovereigns and distinguished statesmen,--and the magistracy
prepared themselves to celebrate it with befitting pomp and ceremony.
Beethoven was requested to set a poem, written by Dr. Aloys Weissenbach,
of Salzburg, in cantata form, which was to be sung as a greeting to the
royal visitors. It was "Der glorreiche Augenblick," sometimes written
"Der heilige Augenblick" ("The Glorious Moment"). The time for its
composition was very brief, and was made still shorter by the quarrels
the composer had with the poet in trying to reduce the barbarous text to
a more inspiring and musical form. He began the composition in September,
and it was first performed on the 29th of the following November,
together with the "Battle of Vittoria," and the A major (Seventh)
symphony, written in the previous year. The concert took place in the
presence of the sovereigns and an immense audience which received his
works with every demonstration of enthusiasm, particularly "The Glorious
Moment,"--a moment which all hailed as the precursor of a happier epoch
for Europe, soon to be freed from Napoleonic oppression. The occasion was
one of great benefit to the composer at a time when he was sorely in need
of assistance. The distinguished foreign visitors thronged the salon of
the Archduke Rudolph to pay him homage. Handsome gifts were lavished upon
him so that he was enabled to make a permanent investment of 20,000 marks
in shares of the bank of Austria. Brilliant entertainments were given by
the Russian ambassador, Prince Rasoumowsky,[12] in his palace, at one of
which Beethoven was presented to the sovereigns. The Empress of Russia
also gave him a reception and made him magnificent presents. Schindler
says:

"Not without feeling did the great master afterwards recall those days
in the Imperial Palace and that of the Russian Prince; and once with a
certain pride remarked that he had allowed the crowned heads to pay
court to him, and that he had carried himself thereby proudly."

The stern old republican, however, who could rebuke Goethe for taking off
his hat in the presence of royalty, spoke such sentiments jocosely. He
expresses his real feelings in a letter written to the attorney, Herr J.
Kauka, of Prague:--

"I write nothing about our monarchs and monarchies, for the newspapers
give you every information on these subjects. The intellectual realm is
the most precious in my eyes, and far above all temporal and spiritual
monarchies."

The cantata itself, while not one of the most meritorious of the
composer's works, for reasons which are sufficiently apparent, still is
very effective in its choruses. The detailed parts do not need special
description; they are six in number, as follows: No. 1, chorus ("Europa
steht"); No. 2, recitative and chorus ("O, seht sie nah und näher
treten"); No. 3, grand scena, soprano, with violin obligato and chorus
("O Himmel, welch' Entzücken"); No. 4, soprano solo and chorus ("Das Auge
schaut"); No. 5, recitative and quartet for two sopranos, tenor, and bass
("Der den Bund im Sturme festgehalten"); No. 6, chorus and fugue ("Es
treten hervor die Scharen der Frauen"), closing with a stirring "Heil und
Gluck" to Vindobona, the ancient name of the city. In 1836, nine years
after the composer's death, the cantata appeared with a new poetical
setting by Friedrich Rochlitz, under the title of "Preis der Tonkunst"
("Praise of Music"), in which form it was better adapted for general
performance.

Among other compositions of Beethoven which assimilate to the cantata
form, are Op. 112, "Meeresstille und glückliche Fahrt," for four voices,
with orchestra accompaniment; Op. 121, "Opferlied," for soprano solo,
with chorus and orchestra accompaniment; and Op. 122, "Bundeslied," for
two solo voices, three-part chorus, and accompaniment of two clarinets,
two bassoons, and two horns.

[12] Prince Rasoumowsky, who was the Russian ambassador at the Austrian
Court for twenty years, was himself a thorough musician, and ranked
as one of the best players in Vienna, of the Haydn and Beethoven
quartets. His instrument was the second violin.

BENEDICT.

Sir Julius Benedict, whose name is so intimately connected with music in
England, was born at Stuttgart, Nov. 27, 1804. After a short period of
study with Hummel at Weimar he became a pupil of Weber. He progressed so
rapidly that at the age of nineteen he conducted operatic performances in
Vienna, and a few years afterwards was leader at the San Carlo in Naples,
where he produced his first opera, "Giacinta ed Ernesto." In 1835 he went
to Paris and thence to London, where he remained until his death. In 1836
he led the orchestra at the Lyceum Theatre, and was also conductor at
Drury Lane during the memorable seasons in which the best of Balfe's
operas were brought out. It was during this period also that he produced
two of his own operas,--"The Brides of Venice" and "The Crusaders," which
are ranked among his best works of this class. In 1850 he accompanied
Jenny Lind on her memorable tour through this country. On his return to
England he was engaged as conductor at Her Majesty's Theatre, and
afterwards at Drury Lane. In 1860 he produced the cantata of "Undine;" in
1862 the opera "Lily of Killarney;" in 1863 the cantata "Richard Coeur de
Leon;" in 1864 the operetta "Bride of Song;" in 1866 the cantata "St.
Cecilia;" and in 1870 the oratorio "St. Peter." In 1871 he received the
honor of knighthood, and in 1873 brought out a symphony which met with
great success. In 1874, the occasion of his seventieth birthday, he was
made Knight Commander of the orders of Francis and Joseph and of
Frederic, Austrian and Wurtembergian decorations. Nearly every sovereign
in Europe had thus honored him. He was also conductor of the London
Monday Popular Concerts for many years, and directed many chamber
concerts. He died full of honors in June, 1885.

St. Cecilia.

The legend of St. Cecilia for two centuries has inspired the poet and
composer, and the custom of celebrating her festival has obtained in
nearly all European countries during the same period. The earliest
observance was at Evreux, France, in 1571. The first celebration in
England of which any record remains was that of 1683; though it is clear
from the accounts of musical writers in the seventeenth century that the
custom had been practised many years prior to that date. From 1683 to
1750 St. Cecilia festivals were given annually in London, and for these
occasions an ode was written and set to music.[13] In the latter year the
distinctive name of the festival fell into disuse, though large musical
festivals were frequently held after that year on the saint's day. In
France regular entertainments were given on St. Cecilia's Day from 1573
to 1601, when the record terminates. In Italy the anniversary of the
saint has not been celebrated except as a church festival. In Germany the
custom prevailed as early as the sixteenth century; and in the next
century Cecilia festivals were quite common in Spain. Prior to Benedict's
work the most modern composition having the legend for its basis was a
cantata by Van Bree, of Amsterdam, written in 1845.

These preliminaries will enable the reader the better to understand the
introduction which Mr. Chorley has written to the text of the cantata by
Benedict, composed for the Norwich Festival of 1866. Mr. Chorley says:--

"It has long been a favorite fancy of mine to treat the legend of St.
Cecilia for music with a view to the possible revival of such
celebrations as were held in gone-by years, when English sympathy for
the art was more limited in every respect than at the present time. It
is true that the names of Dryden and Addison among the poets, and of
Handel among the musicians, who have made 'divine Cecilia's' praise
immortal, might be thought to deter anyone from dealing with the
subject. But theirs were merely votive odes indirectly bearing on the
power of the art of which Cecilia is patron saint. This cantata of mine
sets forth her story, which, so far as I am aware, has not been done
before in any of the works produced for the Cecilian festivals in
England. All who are familiar with the accepted legend, as told in the
'Legenda Aurea' of Jacobus Januensis, Archbishop of Genoa, will
perceive that I have treated it with a certain liberty. Some of the
minor incidents--such as the conversion and martyrdom of Tiburtius, the
brother of Valerianus--have been omitted with a view of avoiding the
introduction of secondary persons, and of concentrating the main
interest in the martyr heroine. Further, the catastrophe which (to cite
Dryden's known line in defiance of its original import)

"Raised a mortal to the skies,"

has been simplified. The legend narrates that after the agony of slow
fire, which failed to kill the Christian bride, the sword ended her
days. A literal adherence to this tradition might have weakened the
closing scene by presenting two situations of the same character.
Others must judge how far I have been indiscreet, or the reverse, in
its omission."

The story of the cantata is strikingly similar to that which forms the
theme of Donizetti's opera "Il Poliuto," though the manner of the
conversions differs. In the former it is Valerianus, the lover of
Cecilia, who is turned from heathenism by the angelic vision. In the
latter it is Paulina, the wife of the Roman convert Polyutus, who
witnesses the divine illumination and hears the celestial harps, which
induce her to abjure the worship of the gods and join her husband in
martyrdom. It is in fact the old, old story of the persecutions of a new
faith by the old. Cecilia, though married to Valerianus, hears the divine
call summoning the bride away from her lover until he shall have been
converted. She appeals to Heaven in his behalf. A vision of angels
appears to him and their songs win his soul. The infuriated prefect, who
has but just performed the rites of their marriage, orders their
death,--Valerianus to be beheaded, and Cecilia to die by the slow
martyrdom of fire. The tragedy of the former is left to the imagination.
Cecilia dies surrounded by the angels and hears their voices:--

"Before mine eyes, already dim,
Doth heaven unclose the gate;
I hear the choiring seraphim
Around the throne that wait.
To join the song of that bright choir
Thy mercy sets me free;
And so I triumph o'er the fire,
And rise, O Lord, to Thee."

The work contains thirteen numbers, and the solos are divided as follows:
Cecilia, soprano; Valerianus, tenor; the Prefect of Rome, bass; a
Christian woman, contralto. The remaining numbers are assigned to
choruses of Roman citizens, Christians, and angels. A tender and
sorrowful prelude, foreshadowing the tragedy, introduces a bright and
joyous wedding chorus ("Let the Lutes play their loudest"), which in its
middle part is divided between male and female choir, returning to
four-part harmony in the close. The next number is an ecstatic love-song
for Valerianus ("The Love too deep for Words to speak"), which leads up
to a scena and duet for Valerianus and Cecilia ("O my Lord, if I must
grieve you"), which is very dramatic in its texture. The conversion
music, including an obligato soprano solo with chorus of angels ("Praise
the Lord"), recitative and air for tenor with choral responses ("Cease
not, I pray you"), and an animated chorus of angels ("From our Home"),
follows, and closes the first part.

The second part opens with the curse of the prefect, a very passionate
aria for bass ("What mean these Zealots vile?"), following which in
marked contrast is a lovely aria for contralto ("Father, whose Blessing
we entreat"). The next number, a quartet with full choral accompaniment
("God is our Hope and Strength"), is one of the most effective in the
work, and is followed by the trial scene, a duet between Valerianus and
the prefect, the latter accompanied by chorus. A short funeral march
intervenes. Valerianus and Cecilia bid each other farewell; the former is
borne away, and Cecilia sings her dying song ("Those whom the Highest One
befriends") amid the triumphant hallelujahs of the angels.

[13] The Ode for St. Cecilia's Day in 1683 was written by Christopher
Fishburn and set to music by Purcell. The most famous odes of the
next hundred years were as follows: "A song for St. Cecilia's Day,
1687," by John Dryden, originally composed by Draghi, afterwards by
Handel; ode by Thomas d'Urfrey, music by Dr. Blow, 1691; "Alexander's
Feast," by Dryden, original music by Jeremiah Clark afterwards
composed by Handel, 1697; ode by Joseph Addison, composed by Purcell,
1699; "Hymn to Harmony," by Congreve, composed by John Eccles, 1701;
ode by Pope in 1708, set to music in 1757 by William Walond; an ode
by Christopher Smart, composed by William Russell, 1800.

BENNETT.

William Sterndale Bennett, one of the most gifted and individual of
English composers, was born at Sheffield, April 13, 1816. His musical
genius displayed itself early, and in his tenth year he was placed in the
Royal Academy of Music, of which in his later years he became principal.
He received his early instruction in composition from Lucas and Dr.
Crotch, and studied the piano with Cipriani Potter, who had been a pupil
of Mozart. The first composition which gained him distinction was the
Concerto in D minor, written in 1832, which was followed by the Capriccio
in D minor. During the next three years he produced the overture to
"Parisina," the F minor Concerto, and the "Naïades" overture, the success
of which was so great that a prominent musical house in London offered to
send him to Leipsic for a year. He went there, and soon won his way to
the friendship of Schumann and Mendelssohn. With the latter he was on
very intimate terms, which has led to the erroneous statement that he was
his pupil. In 1840 he made a second visit to Leipsic, where he composed
his Caprice in E, and the "Wood Nymphs" overture. In 1842 he returned to
England, and for several years was busily engaged with chamber concerts.
In 1849 he founded the Bach Society, arranged the "Matthew Passion" music
of that composer, as well as his "Christmas Oratorio," and brought out
the former work in 1854. The previous year he was offered the
distinguished honor of the conductorship of the Gewandhaus concerts at
Leipsic, but did not accept. In 1856 he was appointed conductor of the
Philharmonic Society, and filled the position for ten years, resigning it
to take the head of the Royal Academy of Music. In the same year he was
elected musical professor at Cambridge, where he received the degree of
Doctor of Music and other honors. In 1858 his beautiful cantata "The May
Queen" was produced at the Leeds Festival, and in 1862 the "Paradise and
the Peri" overture, written for the Philharmonic Society. In 1867 his
oratorio, or, as he modestly terms it, "sacred cantata," "The Woman of
Samaria," was produced with great success at the Birmingham Festival. In
1870 he was honored with a degree by the University of Oxford, and a year
later received the empty distinction of knighthood. His last public
appearance was at a festival in Brighton in 1874, where he conducted his
"Woman of Samaria." He died Feb. 1, 1875, and was buried in Westminster
Abbey with distinguished honors.

The May Queen.

"The May Queen," a pastoral cantata, the libretto by Henry F. Chorley,
was first performed at the Leeds Festival of 1858. The solo parts are
written for the May Queen (soprano); the Queen (contralto); the Lover
(tenor); and the Captain of the Foresters, as Robin Hood (bass). The
opening scene pictures the dressing of the tree for the spring festivity
on the banks of the Thames, and the preparations for the reception of the
May Queen. A despondent lover enters and sings his melancholy plight as
he reflects upon the fickleness of the May Queen, interrupted at
intervals by the merry shouts of the chorus:--

"With a laugh as we go round
To the merry, merry sound
Of the tabor and the pipe,
We will frolic on the green;
For since the world began,
And our royal river ran,
Was never such a May Day,
And never such a Queen."

The lover continues his doleful lamenting, which is at last interrupted
by the entrance of the May Queen herself, who chides him for his
complaints and argues her right to coquet on such a day. As their
interview closes, a band of foresters enter with their greenwood king,
Robin Hood, at their head, who after a rollicking hunting-song makes open
love to the May Queen. The enraged lover resents his impertinence, and at
last strikes him a blow, which by the laws exposes him to the loss of his
hand. Before he can make his escape there is a flourish of trumpets, and
the Queen enters and demands the reason for the brawl. The revellers
inform her that the lover has struck the forester. She orders his arrest,
whereupon the May Queen intercedes with her for her lover's release and
declares her affection for him. Her appeal for mercy is granted. The
forester is banished from the royal presence for lowering himself to the
level of a peasant girl, the May Queen is ordered to wed her lover on the
coming morn, and all ends happily with the joyous chorus:--

"And the cloud hath passed away,
That was heavy on the May;
And the river floweth fair,
And the meadow bloometh green.
They embrace, no more to part,
While we sing from every heart,
A blessing on the bridal!
A blessing on the Queen!"

The music of the cantata is divided into ten numbers, which are
characterized by exquisite refinement and artistic taste. The solos,
particularly No. 2, for tenor ("O Meadow, clad in early Green"), No. 4,
the obligato soprano ("With the Carol in the Tree"), and No. 6, the
forester's lusty greenwood song ("'Tis jolly to hunt in the bright
Moonlight"), are very melodious, and well adapted to the individual
characters. The concerted music is written in the most scholarly manner,
the choruses are full of life and spirit, and the instrumentation is
always effective. There are few more beautiful cantatas than "The May
Queen," though the composer was hampered by a dull and not very inspiring
libretto. Poor words, however, could not affect his delightful grace and
fancy, which manifest themselves in every number of this little pastoral.
It is surprising that so excellent a work, and one which is so well
adapted to chorus singing and solo display, without making very severe
demands upon the singers, is not more frequently given in this country.

The Exhibition Ode.

The music for the opening of the International Exhibition at London,
which occurred in May, 1862, was of unusual excellence. Auber sent a
composition which, though called a march, was in reality a brilliant
overture. Meyerbeer contributed an overture in march form, in which three
marches were blended in one, the whole culminating in "Rule Britannia."
Verdi wrote a cantata, which was rejected by the Commissioners because by
the side of the national anthem he had introduced the revolutionary
Marseillaise and the Italian war-song called "Garibaldienne." Its
rejection not only caused great indignation in the musical world, but at
once made it famous; and it was afterwards publicly performed,
Mademoiselle Titiens taking the soprano solos, Sir Julius Benedict
conducting.

The prominent feature of the musical programme, however, was the Ode
which the poet laureate and Bennett conjointly furnished. Never before
were Mr. Tennyson's verses more completely united with music. The work is
divided into three parts, all choral, linked by recitatives. The first
number is a hymn to the Deity ("Uplift a thousand Voices full and
sweet"), written as a four-part chorale, which is very jubilant in style.
The next movement,--

"O silent father of our kings to be,
Mourned in this golden hour of jubilee,
For this, for all, we weep our thanks to thee,"

eloquently referring to the Prince Consort, is set in the minor key, and
is one of the most pathetic musical passages ever written. Then follows a
descriptive catalogue of the industries represented,--"harvest tool and
husbandry," "loom and wheel and engin'ry," and so on, through which the
music labors some, as might have been expected; but in the close it once
more resumes its melodious flow, leading up to the final chorus, in which
the theme of the opening chorale is borrowed and developed with peculiar
originality and artistic skill into a movement of great richness in
effects and beauty in expression. It is unfortunate for the popularity of
such an excellent work that it was composed for a special occasion.

BERLIOZ.

Hector Berlioz, one of the most renowned of modern French composers, and
an acute critic and skilful conductor as well, was born, Dec. 11, 1803,
at La Côte St. André, in France. His father was a physician, and intended
him for the same profession. He reluctantly went to Paris and began the
study of medicine; but music became his engrossing passion, and medicine
was abandoned. He entered the Conservatory as a pupil of Lesueur, and
soon showed himself superior to all his masters except Cherubini, which
aroused a strong opposition to him and his compositions. It was only
after repeated trials that he took the first prize, which entitled him to
go to Italy for three years. On his return to Paris he encountered
renewed antipathy. His music was not well received, and he was obliged to
support himself by conducting at concerts and writing articles for the
press. As a final resort he organized a concert-tour through Germany and
Russia, the details of which are contained in his extremely interesting
Autobiography. At these concerts his own music was the staple of the
programmes, and it met with great success, though not always played by
the best of orchestras, and not always well by the best, as his own
testimony shows; for his compositions are very exacting, and call for
every resource known to the modern orchestra. The Germans were quick in
appreciating his music; but it was not until after his death that his
ability was conceded in France. In 1839 he was appointed librarian of the
Conservatory, and in 1856 was made a member of the French Academy. These
were the only honors he received, though he long sought to obtain a
professorship in the Conservatory. A romantic but sad incident in his
life was his violent passion for Miss Smithson, an Irish actress, whom he
saw upon the Paris stage in the _rôle_ of Ophelia, at a time when Victor
Hugo had revived an admiration for Shakspeare among the French. He
married her, but did not live with her long, owing to her bad temper and
ungovernable jealousy; though after the separation he honorably
contributed to her support out of the pittance he was earning. Among his
great works are the opera, "Benvenuto Cellini;" the symphony with chorus,
"Romeo and Juliet;" "Beatrice and Benedict;" "Les Troyens," the text from
Virgil's "Æneid;" the symphony, "Harold in Italy;" the symphony, "Funèbre
et Triomphe;" the "Damnation of Faust;" a double-chorused "Te Deum;" the
"Symphony Fantastique;" the "Requiem;" and the sacred trilogy, "L'Enfance
du Christ." Berlioz stands among all other composers as the foremost
representative of "programme music," and has left explicit and very
detailed explanations of the meaning of his works, so that the hearer may
listen intelligently by seeing the external objects his music is intended
to picture. In the knowledge of individual instruments and the grouping
of them for effect, in warmth of imagination and brilliancy of color, and
in his daring combinations and fantastic moods, which are sometimes
carried to the very verge of eccentricity, he is a colossus among modern
musicians. He died in Paris, March 8, 1869.

Romeo and Juliet.

"Dramatic symphony, with choruses, solos, chant, and prologue in choral
recitative" is the title which Berlioz gives to his "Romeo and Juliet."
It was written in 1839, and its composition commemorates an interesting
episode in his career. In the previous year he had written his symphony
"Harold in Italy," the subject inspired by Byron's "Childe Harold."
Paganini, the wonder of the musical world at that time, was present at
its performance, and was so pleased with the work that he sent Berlioz an
enthusiastic tribute of applause as well as of substantial
remembrance.[14] The composer at that time was in straitened
circumstances, and in his gratitude for this timely relief he resolved to
write a work which should be worthy of dedication to the great violinist.
His Autobiography bears ample testimony to the enthusiasm with which he
worked. He says:--

"At last, after much indecision, I hit upon the idea of a symphony,
with choruses, vocal solos, and choral recitatives, on the sublime and
ever novel theme of Shakspeare's 'Romeo and Juliet.' I wrote in prose
all the text intended for the vocal pieces which came between the
instrumental selections. Émile Deschamps, with his usual delightful
good-nature and marvellous facility, set it to verse for me, and I
began....

"During all that time how ardently did I live! How vigorously I struck
out on that grand sea of poetry caressed by the playful breeze of
fancy, beneath the hot rays of that sun of love which Shakspeare
kindled, always confident of my power to reach the marvellous island
where stands the temple of true art! Whether I succeeded or not it is
not for me to decide."

The work opens with a fiery introduction representing the combats and
tumults of the two rival houses of Capulet and Montague, and the
intervention of the Prince. It is followed by a choral recitative for
four altos, tenors, and basses ("Long smouldering Hatreds"), with which
is interwoven a contralto solo ("Romeo too is there"), the number closing
with a passionate chorus ("The Revels now are o'er"). A beautiful effect
is made at this point by assigning to the alto voice two couplets ("Joys
of first Love") which are serious in style but very rich in melody. A
brief bit of choral recitative and a few measures for tenor--Mercutio's
raillery--lead up to a dainty scherzetto for tenor solo and small chorus
("Mab! bright Elf of Dreamland"), and a short choral passage brings this
scene to a close.

The second scene, which is for orchestra only, an impressive declamatory
phrase developing into a tender melody, representing the sadness of
Romeo, set in tones against the brilliant dance music in the distance
accompanying the revel of the Capulets, is one of the most striking
effects Berlioz has accomplished, and illustrates his astonishing command
of instrumentation. The third scene represents Capulet's garden in the
stillness of night, the young Capulets passing through it, bidding each
other adieu and repeating snatches of the dance music. As their strains
die away in the distance the balcony scene between Romeo and Juliet is
given by the orchestra alone in a genuine love-poem full of passion and
sensuousness. No words could rival the impassioned beauty of this
melodious number. The fourth scene is also given to the orchestra, and is
a setting of Mercutio's description of Queen Mab. It is a scherzo
intensely swift in its movement and almost ethereal in its dainty,
graceful rhythm. The instrumentation is full of subtle effects,
particularly in the romantic passages for the horns.

In the fifth scene we pass from the tripping music of the fairies to the
notes of woe. It describes the funeral procession of Juliet, beginning
with a solemn march in fugue style, at first instrumental, with
occasional entrances of the voices in monotone, and then vocal ("O mourn,
O mourn, strew choicest Flowers"), the monotone being assigned to the
instruments. It preludes a powerful orchestral scene representing Romeo's
invocation, Juliet's awakening, and the despair and death of the
lovers.[15] The finale is mainly for double chorus, representing the
quarrel between the Montagues and Capulets in the cemetery, which is
written with great dramatic power and conceived on the large scale of an
operatic _ensemble_ both in the voice parts and instrumentation, and the
final reconciliation through the intercession of Friar Laurence, whose
declamatory solos are very striking, particularly the air, "Poor Children
mine, let me mourn you." The work is one of almost colossal difficulty,
and requires great artists, singers and players, to give expression to
its daring realism. Among all of Berlioz's programme-music, this
tone-picture of the principal episodes in Shakspeare's tragedy stands out
clear and sharp by virtue of its astonishing dramatic power.

[14] My dear Friend,--Beethoven is dead, and Berlioz alone can revive
him. I have heard your divine composition, so worthy of your genius,
and beg you to accept, in token of my homage, twenty thousand francs,
which will be handed to you by the Baron de Rothschild on
presentation of the enclosed.--Your most affectionate friend,
Nicolo Paganini.
Paris, Dec. 18, 1838.

[15] Composer's Note. The public has no imagination; therefore pieces
which are addressed solely to the imagination have no public. The
following instrumental scene is in this case, and I think it should
be omitted whenever this symphony is given before an audience not
having a feeling for poetry, and not familiar with the fifth act of
Shakspeare's tragedy. This implies its omission ninety-nine times out
of a hundred. It presents, moreover, immense difficulties of
execution. Consequently, after Juliet's funeral procession a moment
of silence should be observed, then the finale should be taken up.

The Damnation of Faust.

The "Damnation of Faust," dramatic legend, as Berlioz calls it, was
written in 1846. It is divided in four parts, the first containing three,
the second four, the third six, and the fourth five scenes, the last
concluding with an epilogue and the apotheosis of Marguerite. It was
first produced in Paris in November, 1846, and had its first hearing in
this country Feb. 12, 1880, when the late Dr. Leopold Damrosch brought it
out with the assistance of the New York Symphony, Oratorio, and Arion
Societies.

Berlioz has left in his Autobiography an extremely interesting account of
the manner in which he composed it. Though he had had the plan of the
work in his mind for many years, it was not until 1846 that he began the
legend. During this year he was travelling on a concert-tour through
Austria, Hungary, Bohemia, and Silesia, and the different numbers were
written at intervals of leisure. He says:--

"I wrote when I could and where I could; in the coach, on the railroad,
in steamboats, and even in towns, notwithstanding the various cares
entailed by my concerts."

He began with Faust's invocation to Nature, which was finished "in my old
German post-chaise." The introduction was written in an inn at Passau,
and at Vienna he finished up the Elbe scene, Mephistopheles' song, and
the exquisite Sylph's ballet. As to the introduction of the Rákóczy
march, his words deserve quoting in this connection, as they throw some
light on the general character of the work. He says:--

"I have already mentioned my writing a march at Vienna, in one night,
on the Hungarian air of Rákóczy. The extraordinary effect it produced
at Pesth made me resolve to introduce it in Faust, by taking the
liberty of placing my hero in Hungary at the opening of the act, and
making him present at the march of a Hungarian army across the plain. A
German critic considered it most extraordinary in me to have made Faust
travel in such a place. I do not see why, and I should not have
hesitated in the least to bring him in in any other direction if it
would have benefited the piece. I had not bound myself to follow
Goethe's plot, and the most eccentric travels may be attributed to such
a personage as Faust without transgressing the bounds of possibility.
Other German critics took up the same thesis, and attacked me with even
greater violence about my modifications of Goethe's text and plot; just
as though there were no other Faust but Goethe's, and as if it were
possible to set the whole of such a poem to music without altering its
arrangement. I was stupid enough to answer them in the preface to the
'Damnation of Faust.' I have often wondered why I was never reproached
about the book of 'Romeo and Juliet,' which is not very like the
immortal tragedy. No doubt because Shakspeare was not a German.
Patriotism! Fetichism! Idiotcy!"

One night when he had lost his way in Pesth he wrote the choral refrain
of the "Ronde des Paysans" by the gaslight in a shop; and at Prague he
arose in the middle of the night to write down the Angels' Chorus in
Marguerite's apotheosis. At Breslau he wrote the Students' Latin Song,
"Jam nox stellata velamina pandit;" and on his return to France he
composed the grand trio in the work while visiting a friend near Rouen.
He concludes:

"The rest was written in Paris, but always improvised, either at my own
house, or at the café, or in the Tuileries gardens, and even on a stone
in the Boulevard du Temple. I did not search for ideas, I let them
come; and they presented themselves in a most unforeseen manner. When
at last the whole outline was sketched, I set to work to re-do the
whole, touch up the different parts, unite and blend them together with
all the patience and determination of which I am capable, and to finish
off the instrumentation, which had only been indicated here and there.
I look upon this as one of my best works, and hitherto the public seems
to be of the same opinion."

This opinion, however, was of slow growth, for of the first performance
of the work he says:--

"It was the end of November, 1846; snow was falling; the weather was
dreadful. I had no fashionable cantatrice to sing the part of
Marguerite. As for Roger, who did Faust, and Herman Léon, who took the
part of Mephistopheles, they might be heard any day in this same
theatre; moreover, they were no longer the fashion. The result was that
Faust was twice performed to a half-empty room. The concert-going
Parisian public, supposed to be fond of music, stayed quietly at home,
caring as little about my new work as if I had been an obscure student
at the Conservatoire; and these two performances at the Opéra Comique
were no better attended than if they had been the most wretched operas
on the list."

The opening scene introduces Faust alone in the fields at sunrise on the
Hungarian plains. He gives expression to his delight in a tender, placid
strain ("The Winter has departed, Spring is here"). It is followed by an
instrumental prelude of a pastoral character, in which are heard
fragments of the roundelay of the peasants and of the fanfare in the
Hungarian march, leading up to the "Dance of Peasants," a brisk,
vivacious chorus ("The Shepherd donned his best Array"), beginning with
the altos, who are finally joined by the sopranos, tenors, and basses in
constantly accelerating time. The scene then changes to another part of
the plain and discloses the advance of an army to the brilliant and
stirring music of the Rákóczy march.[16]

The second part (Scene IV.) opens in north Germany and discloses Faust
alone in his chamber, as in Gounod's opera; he sings a soliloquy, setting
forth his discontent with worldly happiness, and is about to drown his
sorrow with poison, when he is interrupted by the Easter Hymn ("Christ is
risen from the Dead"), a stately and jubilant six-part chorus, in the
close of which he joins. As it comes to an end he continues his song
("Heavenly Tones, why seek me in the Dust?"), but is again interrupted by
the sudden apparition of Mephistopheles, who mockingly sings, "Oh, pious
Frame of Mind," and entraps him in the compact. They disappear, and we
next find them in Auerbach's cellar in Leipsic, where the carousing
students are singing a rollicking drinking-song ("O what Delight when
Storm is crashing"). The drunken Brander is called upon for a song, and
responds with a characteristic one ("There was a Rat in the Cellar
Nest"), to which the irreverent students improvise a fugue on the word
"Amen," using a motive of the song. Mephistopheles compliments them on
the fugue, and being challenged to give them an air trolls out the lusty
_lied_, "There was a King once reigning, who had a big black Flea," in
the accompaniment of which Berlioz makes some very realistic effects.
Amid the bravas of the drunken students they disappear again, and are
next found in the flowery meadows of the Elbe, where Mephistopheles sings
a most enchanting melody ("In this fair Bower"). Faust is lulled to
slumber, and in his vision hears the chorus of the gnomes and sylphs
("Sleep, happy Faust"), a number of extraordinary beauty and fascinating
charm. Its effect is still further heightened by the sylphs' ballet in
waltz time. As they gradually disappear, Faust wakes and relates to
Mephistopheles his vision of the "angel in human form." The latter
promises to conduct him to her chamber, and they join a party of soldiers
and students who will pass "before thy beauty's dwelling." The finale of
the scene is composed of a stirring soldiers' chorus ("Stoutly-walled
Cities we fain would win") and a characteristic students' song in Latin
("Jam nox stellata"), at first sung separately and then combined with
great skill.

The third part begins with a brief instrumental prelude, in which the
drums and trumpets sound the tattoo, introducing a scene in Marguerite's
chamber, where Faust sings a passionate love-song ("Thou sweet Twilight,
be welcome"), corresponding with the well-known "Salve dimora" in
Gounod's garden scene. At its close Mephistopheles warns him of the
approach of Marguerite and conceals him behind a curtain. She enters, and
in brief recitative tells her dream, in which she has seen the image of
Faust, and discloses her love for him. Then while disrobing she sings the
ballad "There was a King in Thule." As its pathetic strains come to a
close, the music suddenly changes and Mephistopheles in a characteristic
strain summons the will-o'-the-wisps to bewilder the maiden. It is
followed by their lovely and graceful minuet, in which Berlioz again
displays his wonderful command of orchestral realism. It is followed by
Mephistopheles' serenade ("Why dost thou wait at the Door of thy
Lover?"), with a choral accompaniment by the will-o'-the-wisps,
interspersed with demoniac laughter. The last number is a trio ("Angel
adored") for Marguerite, Faust, and Mephistopheles, wonderfully
expressive in its utterances of passion, and closing with a chorus of
mockery which indicates the coming tragedy.

The fourth part opens with a very touching romance ("My Heart with Grief
is heavy"), the familiar "Meine Ruh' ist hin" of Goethe, sung by
Marguerite, and the scene closes with the songs of the soldiers and
students heard in the distance. In the next scene Faust sings a sombre
and powerful invocation to Nature ("O boundless Nature, Spirit sublime").
Mephistopheles is seen scaling the rocks and in agitated recitative tells
his companion the story of Marguerite's crime and imprisonment. He bids
him sign a scroll which will save him from the consequences of the deed,
and Faust thus delivers himself over to the Evil One. Then begins the
wild "Ride to Hell," past the peasants praying at the cross, who flee in
terror as they behold the riders, followed by horrible beasts, monstrous
birds, and grinning, dancing skeletons, until at last they disappear in
an abyss and are greeted by the chorus of the spirits of hell in a
tempest of sound, which is literally a musical pandemonium ("Has! Irimiru
Karabras," etc.) in its discordant vocal strains and in the mighty
dissonances and supernatural effects in the accompaniment. A brief
epilogue, "On Earth," follows, in which Faust's doom is told, succeeded
by a correspondingly brief one, "In Heaven," in which the seraphim plead
for Marguerite. The legend closes with "Marguerite's Glorification," a
jubilant double chorus announcing her pardon and acceptance among the
blest.

[16] This march, though the best known of all Hungarian airs, is liable
to be confounded with others bearing the same name. It forms one of
the group of national patriotic melodies called into existence by the
heroism of the Transylvanian prince Franz Rákótzy, who at the
beginning of the last century fought with rare valor, though little
success, against the dominating power of Austria. Who composed it
remains as unknown as the authorship of its less familiar companions;
but though the origin of the tune, like that of so many others which
nations cherish, is veiled in mystery, the march has enjoyed an
enviable prominence. It was proscribed by the Austrian Government in
the bad days when Hungary was treated as a conquered appanage of the
Hapsburgs; its performance was a criminal act, and the possession of
printed or written copies, if suspected, brought down domiciliary
visits from the police.--_Albert Hall Programmes_, 1874.

BRAHMS.

Johannes Brahms, one of the most eminent of living German composers, was
born at Hamburg, May 7, 1833. His father was a double-bass player in the
orchestra in that city, and devoted his son at a very early age to his
own profession. His first piano teacher was Cossell; but to Edward
Marxsen, the royal music director, he owes his real success as a
composer. Brahms remained in Hamburg until 1853, when he went upon a
concert-tour with Reményí, the eccentric and somewhat sensational
Hungarian, who has been a familiar figure upon the American
concert-stage. He remained with him however but a very short time, for in
October of that year they parted company. Brahms had attracted the notice
of Liszt and Joachim, and it may have been through their advice that the
musical partnership was dissolved. In any event, soon after leaving
Reményí he went to Düsseldorf and visited Schumann, who announced him to
the musical world in a very enthusiastic manner. The next year (1854)
appeared his first works,--three sonatas, a trio and scherzo for piano,
and three books of songs. After a visit to Liszt at Weimar he settled
down as chorus-conductor and music-teacher at the court of Lippe-Detmold,
where he remained a few years. After leaving Detmold he successively
resided in Hamburg, Zürich, and Baden-Baden, though most of his time has
been spent in Vienna, where he has directed the Singakademie and the
concerts of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde. Among his most famous
compositions are a funeral hymn for chorus and wind-band; the "German
Requiem;" "Triumphlied," for double chorus and orchestra;
"Schicksalslied," for chorus and orchestra; six symphonies; variations on
a theme of Haydn, for orchestra; the "Tragic" and "Academic" overtures;
besides several trios, quartets, quintets, sextets, concertos, and
sonatas.

Triumphlied.

"Triumphlied" ("Song of Triumph") was written by Brahms in commemoration
of the victories of German arms and the re-establishment of the Empire,
and is dedicated to "the German Emperor Wilhelm I." It was first
performed at the fifty-first festival of the Lower Rhine at Cologne in
1873. The text is a paraphrase of certain verses in the nineteenth
chapter of Revelation, and reads as follows:--

"Hallelujah, praise the Lord! Honor and power and glory to God!

"For in righteousness and truth the Lord giveth judgment.

"Glory be to God, all ye His servants, and ye that fear Him, all both
humble and mighty.

"Hallelujah, for the omnipotent God hath exalted His kingdom.

"O, be joyful, let all be glad, to Him alone give honor.

"Behold, the heavens opened wide, and yonder a snow-white horse, and on
him sat one called Steadfast and Faithful, who warreth and judgeth all
with righteousness.

"And he treads the wine-press of wrath of the Lord God Almighty.

"Lo! a great name hath he written upon his vesture and upon his girdle.

"A King of kings and Lord of lords! Hallelujah! Amen!"

The scriptural selections are divided into three movements, written for
double chorus (with the exception of two short barytone solos),
orchestra, and organ, and are introduced by a brief instrumental prelude
of a solemn but animated and exultant character, in the closing measures
of which both choirs break in with jubilant shouts of "Hallelujah! praise
the Lord!" The theme of the movement is the stirring old German song
"Heil dir im Siegerkranz,"[17] which is worked up with consummate skill.
The first part closes with a climax of power and contrapuntal effect
hardly to be found elsewhere outside the choruses of Handel.

The second movement ("Glory be to God!") is of the same general character
as the first. After the opening ascription, a short fugue intervenes,
leading to a fresh melody alternately sung by both choruses.

The third movement, after a very brief but spirited orchestral flourish,
opens with an exultant barytone solo ("And behold then the Heavens opened
wide"). The choruses respond with animation ("And yonder a snow-white
Horse"). Again the barytone intervenes ("And lo! a great Name hath He
written"), and then the choruses take up the majestic theme, "King of
Kings and Lord of Lords," each answering the other with triumphant shouts
that gather force and fire as they proceed, and closing with a mighty
hallelujah in which voices, orchestra, and organ join with fullest power
to produce one of the grandest harmonies ever written. The work is one of
extreme difficulty, as the two choirs are treated independently and their
harmonies are complicated, though blended in general effect. Neither
choir receives assistance from the other. In fact, each rank of voices is
required to perform music of the most exacting kind, so that a perfect
performance of this great jubilee hymn requires singers of trained skill
and more than ordinary intelligence. When thus given, few choruses of
modern times reveal such artistic richness and symmetrical proportions.

[17] A German national song, written by Heinrich Harries, a Holstein
clergyman, for the birthday of Christian VII. of Denmark. It was
originally in eight stanzas, but was reduced to five and otherwise
slightly modified for Prussian use by B. G. Schumacher, and in this
form appeared as a "Berliner Volkslied" in the _Spenersche Zeitung_
of Dec. 17, 1793.--_Grove's Dictionary_.

BRUCH.

Max Bruch, one of the most successful choral composers of the present
time, was born at Cologne, Jan. 6, 1838. His father was a government
official, and his mother a singer of more than ordinary ability. He
received his early instructions, under her watchful supervision, from
Professor Breidenstein, at Bonn. In 1852 he continued his studies with
Hiller, Reinecke, and Breuning, at Cologne; and at this time began to
produce compositions which gave unusual promise. In 1865 he was musical
director at Coblenz, and subsequently at Berlin, where he conducted the
Singakademie. In 1867 he was appointed chapel-master to the Prince of
Schwarzburg-Sondershausen,--a post which he held until 1870. Since that
time he has also been honored with a call to the directorship of the
Liverpool Philharmonic Society. For some years past he has lived at Bonn
and Berlin, and devoted himself exclusively to composition. His first
public appearance as a composer was in connection with the performance of
his operetta, "Scherz, List und Rache," set to Goethe's words; following
which he produced several chamber compositions, among them a trio (op.
5), two string quartets (op. 9, 10), Capriccio (op. 2) for four hands,
Fantasie (op. 11) for two pianos, the G minor and D minor violin
concertos, besides two symphonies. He has also written an oratorio,
"Arminius," and two operas, "Loreley," to the text which the poet Geibel
wrote for Mendelssohn, and "Hermione," an adaptation of Shakspeare's
"Winter's Tale." His greatest successes, however, have been made with his
works in the cantata form, as he is a recognized master in writing for
large masses of voices and instruments, though many of his solo melodies
possess great beauty. In this class of his compositions the most
conspicuous are "Scenes from the Frithjof-Saga," familiarly known as
"Frithjof," "Flight of the Holy Family," "Roman Triumph Song," "Roman
Obsequies," "Salamis," "Fair Ellen," "Odysseus," and "Rorate Coeli."

Frithjof.

The story of the old Norse hero Frithjof is told with exceeding spirit
and beauty in the "Frithjof's Saga" of Esaias Tegnér, Bishop of Wexiö,
Sweden, which has been translated into almost every European language,
and to which music has been adapted by Crusell, Hedda Wrangel, Boman,
Sandberg, Zanders, Caroline Ridderstolpe, Panny, Silcher, and other
Scandinavian and German composers. It was Bishop Tegnér's Saga from which
Bruch derived the incidents of his musical setting of this stirring Norse
theme.[18]

To make the text of the libretto intelligible, the incidents leading up
to it must be briefly told. Frithjof was the son of Thorstein, a friend
of King Bele of Baldershage, and was in love with Ingeborg, the king's
daughter and his foster sister. Bele died, and left his kingdom to his
two sons. When Thorstein passed away, he bequeathed to his son his ship
"Ellida" and his gold ring. Soon thereafter Frithjof sailed across the
fiord to demand the hand of Ingeborg. Her brothers Helge and Halfdan
scorned his suit, whereupon Frithjof swore they should never have help
from him. King Ring, a neighboring monarch, hearing of the trouble
between them, improved the opportunity to menace their kingdom. The
brothers appealed to Frithjof for aid, but he turned a deaf ear; and when
they took the field against Bele, he returned to Baldershage and made
love to Ingeborg, with whom he exchanged rings. Helge and Halfdan were
defeated by Ring, and as part of the indemnity he demanded Ingeborg's
hand. Finding upon their return that Frithjof had been there without
their permission, they required him as a penalty to go to the Orkneys and
collect the tribute which the islanders had neglected to pay since the
death of Bele. Frithjof sailed away in "Ellida." Meanwhile the brothers
resorted to witchcraft to raise a storm that should destroy his vessel,
burned his barrow, and married the lamenting Ingeborg to Ring.

It is at this point that the text of the cantata begins. The first scene
pictures the return of Frithjof and his joy at the prospect of seeing
Ingeborg, whose hand the false brothers had promised him if he were
successful. Learning what had occurred in his absence, Frithjof goes to
the temple where the kings are sacrificing, hurls the tribute in Helge's
face, fires the edifice, and hurries to the sea, pursued by his enemies.
The hero sails away again in "Ellida," and becomes a sea-rover. The text
closes with this incident. In the Saga, after gaining great fame,
Frithjof returns and goes disguised as a salt-burner to Ring's palace.
The king recognized him, and moved by his sad story became his friend and
appointed him guardian of his heir. Ring died soon after, and Frithjof
married Ingeborg. Helge and Halfdan made war against him, Helge was
killed, and Halfdan became his vassal.

The cantata opens with an animated instrumental introduction, "Frithjof's
Return," leading to the barytone recitative and aria ("How bravely o'er
the Flood so bright"),--a very expressive song, interspersed with the
tender, graceful chorus of his companions ("O, 'tis Delight when the Land
far appeareth"). The second scene is preluded with a wedding march, whose
blithe measures are in marked contrast with the bridal chorus ("Sadly the
Skald walks before the Train"), and Ingeborg's song ("My Heart with
Sorrow overflowing"), which describes her grief over her unhappy destiny.
The third scene ("Frithjof's Revenge"), for barytone, chorus, and
orchestra, is one of great power in its dramatic and descriptive
character, as well as in its masterly instrumentation. It begins with a
chorus of priests ("Midnight Sun on the Mountain burns"), gradually
accelerating until it is interrupted by Frithjof's cry ("Go to Helas'
dark Abode"). Three bars of chorus intervene ("Woe! O wicked Deed"), when
Frithjof, after a short recitative, sings a spirited aria ("Where my
Father rests"). At its close, as he rescues Ingeborg's ring and fires the
temple, the chorus resumes ("Woe! he tugs with all his Might at the
Ring"). The choral finale of this scene, with its effective
instrumentation, is a masterpiece of dramatic music, worthy to rank with
the highest work of its kind in opera. After the storm, the calm. In that
calm occurs a melodical episode of an extraordinary character. The melody
itself is so unlike anything which precedes or follows it that it must
have been interpolated. In grateful contrast with the revenge of
Frithjof, the burning of the temple, and the curses of the infuriated
priests, comes the fourth scene, "Frithjof's Departure from the
Northland,"--a solo quartet for male voices ("Sun in the Sky now mounteth
high"), of exquisite harmony, leading up to and accompanying a barytone
solo which has rarely been surpassed in the tender beauty of its melody
or the majestic sonority of its style:[19]--

"World's grandest region, thou mighty North!
From thy dominions I am driven forth;
Within thy border I lov'd to dwell;
Midsummer sun, farewell, farewell.
Thou mighty North, farewell.
My love is foiled, my roof-tree rent,
Mine honor soiled, I in exile sent!
Cheerless is my soul within me,
Hopeless I must bear my lot.
Ye rugged mountains, where heroes dwell,
And Thor commandeth clouds and winds;
Ye azure lakes, that I love so well,
Ye woods and brakes, farewell."

The fifth scene is Ingeborg's lament for her lost lover ("Storms wildly
roar"),--a soprano solo, which, if not as dramatic as the music assigned
to Frithjof, is nevertheless full of beautiful sentiment. The work closes
with a delightful chorus, with short phrases for Frithjof ("Now he
crosseth the Floods of the salt desert Waste"), supposed to be sung on
board the hero's good ship "Ellida" as they sail off for conquest and the
enjoyment of the booty he has promised his companions.

[18] An admirable translation of the Saga was made by George Stephens,
published in London and Stockholm in 1839. It includes besides the
Saga, a life of Tegnér, by Bishop Franzén of Hernösand, Sweden; the
Frithjof literature; description of Ingeborg's Arm Ring, by
Hildebrand, the Royal Antiquarian of Sweden; Crusell's songs; and
numerous notes and illustrations.

[19] In the original Saga the "Farewell" has six verses, the first,
second, and sixth of which are thus literally translated:--

"Heimskringla's forehead,
Thou lofty North!
Away I'm hurried
From this thine earth.
My race from thee goes,
I boasting tell;
Now, nurse of heroes,
Farewell! Farewell!

"Farewell, high-gleaming
Walhalla's throne,
Night's eye, bright-beaming,
Midsummer's sun!
Sky! where, as in hero's
Soul, pure depths dwell,
And thronging star-rows,
Farewell! Farewell!

* * * * *

"My love insulted,
My palace brent,
My honor tarnished,
In exile sent,
From land in sadness
To the sea we appeal,
But life's young gladness,
Farewell! Farewell!"

Salamis.

"Salamis, Triumphal Hymn of the Greeks" was written in 1862. It is a
composition mostly for male chorus, and is admirably adapted for festival
purposes. The poem, which celebrates the defeat of Xerxes, is by H.
Lingg, and runs as follows:--

"Adorn the ships with Persian trophies!
Let the purple sails be swelled!
Joy floats about the masts!
Evoe, the mighty foe, is vanquished!
We broke, O sea, we broke the bond,
Which the Persian Prince threw around thy neck.
Thou rollest now unfettered, no longer embittered
By the hateful trampling of the horses,
Which thy waving surface,
Thy bridge-fettered wrath, bore reluctantly.
Fate overtook Xerxes
And achieved a Hellenic victory on the waves.
To the tyrant, to the arbitrary master,
Did not succumb the people that dwell by the sea,
For the old ruler of the sea filled his beloved race
With boundless courage for the sea-fight.
All around, the waves with delight
Hear many an Ionic song;
They roar and join the pæan
After the splendid struggle
There arise dithyrambic days of liberty!"

The instrumental introduction to the work is written in massive style,
its grand chorus being elegantly interwoven with runs by the wood
instruments, preparing the way for the festive adorning of the ships,--a
very beautiful allegro movement. This is followed by a slower movement
which pictures the breaking of the bond, the rolling of the sea, and the
trampling of the horses with all that vividness for which the composer is
famous. It is succeeded by a passage which is very stately, particularly
in the basses ("Fate overtook Xerxes"), leading up to the grand climax
("All around, the Waves with Delight"), when the orchestra and voices are
in splendid accord. After a short repetition of the opening allegro the
hymn closes. It would be hard to find a more admirable musical setting of
a poem than this, whether in the strength and beauty of its vocal parts,
or in the color, vigor, and general effectiveness of the instrumentation.

Fair Ellen.

The heroic defence of Lucknow by its British garrison in 1857, during the
Sepoy rebellion, is one of the most memorable events in the English
administration of India. The world is familiar with the story of the
disaffection of the native troops, the failure of Sir Henry Lawrence, who
was in command, to overcome the mutiny, the stubborn defence which the
brave little garrison made against the repeated assaults of the native
troops, their temporary assistance from Outram and Havelock, who cut
their way into the city, and the final relief which was brought to them
by Sir Colin Campbell. Of all the stirring incidents of the siege,
however, not one has made such a strong impression as the fanciful story
of the Scotch girl who heard the slogan of the MacGregors far away and
knew the Highlanders were coming to their rescue.

It is this incident which Bruch has used as the theme of his cantata
"Schön Ellen" ("Fair Ellen"). The story is identical with the one so
often told in prose and poetry, but the _dramatis personæ_ differ.
Instead of General Lawrence we have Lord Edward, and instead of familiar
Jessie Brown we have "Fair Ellen." The text of the libretto is weak and
spiritless as compared with that of the poetical versions. The salient
point of the story is thus versified in the former:--

"The Campbells are coming, I told you true;
I hear the bugle blowing:
The pibroch is borne adown the wind,
The tones on the breezes quiver;
'Neath the tread of battalions that hurry along
Afar the plains do shiver."

Compare the above with the corresponding verses from Robert Lowell's fine
poem:--

"The Highlanders! O dinna ye hear
The slogan far awa?
The MacGregors? Ah! I ken it weel;
It's the grandest of them a'.

* * * * *

"Then Jessie said, 'The slogan's dune,
But can ye no hear them noo?
The Campbells are comin'! It's nae a dream;
Our succors hae broken through."

Weak as the text may be, the strong healthy music of the cantata makes
ample compensation. It is quite brief, there being but two solo parts,
"Fair Ellen" (soprano) and Lord Edward (barytone), and five short chorus
numbers. The former are vigorous and somewhat declamatory in style, but
the choruses are very melodious and stirring. The instrumentation is
unusually effective, and a fine point is made in the climax by the
interweaving of the familiar air, "The Campbells are Coming," with the
orchestral score. It lends spirit and color to the finale, and closes up
the work with a fine burst of powerful effect. Short as it is, "Fair
Ellen" will always be a favorite with popular audiences.

Odysseus.

The cantata of "Odysseus," like that of "Frithjof," is made up of
detached scenes, in this case selected from the Odyssey and arranged by
William Paul Graff. The work was first produced in 1872, and has met with
great success in Germany, England, and the United States. It is divided
into two parts, the first containing four, and the second, six scenes.
The characters are as numerous as those of a grand opera, and include
Odysseus, barytone; Penelope, alto; Alcinoos, King of the Pheaces, bass;
Arete, his consort, alto; Nausicaa, their daughter, soprano; the
Helmsman, bass; Pallas Athene, soprano; Leucothea, soprano; Spirit of
Tiresias, bass; Spirit of Anticlia, Odysseus' mother, alto; and Hermes,
tenor. In performance, however, the parts of Arete and the Spirit of
Anticlia, as well as of Nausicaa and Pallas Athene, are usually doubled.
The choruses, which are a very important feature of the work, are
assigned to Odysseus' companions, Spirits of the Departed, Sirens,
Tritons, Nymphs of the sea, Pheaces, Rhapsodes, boatmen and people of
Ithaca.

In the first scene Odysseus is discovered on Calypso's enchanted island
longing for home. Hermes, the messenger of the gods, appears to him and
announces that the Immortals, touched by his sorrow, will rescue him and
restore him to Penelope. In the next scene the wanderer has reached the
abysses of Erebus, "where, loud thundering, the flood of Cocytus pours
its black wave into Acheron's tide." Here he invokes the world of shades.
The spirits of children, brides, youths, and old men successively appear
to him and narrate their mournful stories. Then Tiresias the bard warns
him of the Sirens, and Anticlia his mother bids him hasten to Penelope.
In the third scene he passes the isles of the Sirens, and escapes their
wiles through the firmness of his companions. The fourth scene describes
the storm at sea, the wreck of the vessel, and Odysseus' rescue by
Leucothea, who gives him the veil the Immortals have woven, and bids the
Oceanides and Tritons guide him safely to land; and the first part closes
with our hero peacefully sleeping on the flowery shore of the island of
Pheacia.

The second part opens with the lament of Penelope and her prayer to the
gods to restore her husband to her. The sixth scene changes to the island
again, and discloses Odysseus awakened from his slumbers by the sports
and dances of Nausicaa and her joyful maidens. He appeals to her for help
and refreshment, and is bidden to partake of their hospitality. In the
next scene a sumptuous banquet is spread for him, at which he reveals his
identity and asks that he be allowed to return to his home. The fair
Nausicaa, though suddenly enamoured of the handsome stranger, conceals
her passion and expedites his departure. The eighth scene gives us a
sketch of Penelope weaving the garment, the _ruse_ by which she kept her
suitors aloof.

"This garment by day I weave in my sorrow,
And ravel the web in the still hour of night;
Thus wearying long, yet my tears greet the morrow,
Hope vanishes as the long years take flight."

The ninth scene opens with the arrival of Odysseus at Ithaca. The
sleeping wanderer is borne ashore by his comrades, and upon awaking from
his slumbers fails to recognize his own country until Pallas Athene
appears to him. The goddess convinces him that he is at home once more,
and then discloses the plot of the suitors, who are revelling in his
palace, to compel Penelope to select one of them that day in order that
they may gain possession of his property, as well as their conspiracy for
his destruction, from which she promises to protect him. The final scene
describes the glad acclamations of the people as they recognize Odysseus,
and the joy of Penelope as she welcomes him home once more.

The orchestral introduction is very free and flowing in character, and
its themes are taken from the duet of Odysseus and Penelope, which occurs
later on. The opening chorus of Calypso's nymphs ("Here, O Hermes, in
midst of the Island") is very graceful in its movement and is set to a
most delightful accompaniment. It is followed by Odysseus' lament ("Flow,
ye Tears, since Days are hateful"), at first tender in its character,
then changing to passionate utterances as the remembrance of Penelope
comes to him, and closing with a hopeful strain after the promise of help
from Zeus. In the second or Hades scene the music changes from its bright
color to a gloomier minor tone. It opens with a male chorus ("The Bounds
we have reached of the deep flowing Ocean"), pianissimo, gradually
increasing in intensity and accompanied by remarkable effects in
tone-color as the orchestra describes "the thundering of the flood
Cocytus" and "the surging aloft of the shadows of the departed." It is
followed by semi-choruses of the shades, and closes with a very spirited
and dramatic male chorus ("Dread on Dread! Lo, surging aloft, the
numberless Hosts of Departed"). The third scene opens with a fresh and
characteristic male chorus ("Our Sails to the Breezes"), followed by the
graceful and alluring chorus of the sirens ("Come, great Odysseus, Hero
of Might"). The last scene is almost entirely choral and very dramatic in
its effect, especially the opening number for the Oceanides and Tritons
("Hark! the Storm gathers from afar"), with its vigorous instrumental
description of the tempest, and the closing number for full chorus
("Yonder beckons the wood-crested Harbor"), which in its tenderness and
joyousness forms a striking contrast to the earlier part of the scene.

The second part is introduced with a dignified and sombre recitative
("Thou far-darting Sun"), followed by an aria of the same character ("Oh!
Atritone") in which Penelope bewails the absence of Odysseus. In the next
scene the music changes to a bright and tripping strain, the chorus of
Nausicaa's maidens ("On the flowery Mead, girt by the dimpling Tide"),
which closely resembles that of Calypso's nymphs in the first scene.
After Odysseus' fervent appeal ("Hark to me! Queen, or heaven-dwelling
Goddess") the banquet scene occurs. It begins with an animated chorus of
the Pheacians ("Be welcome, Stranger, to Pheacia's Land"), followed by an
exquisite unison chorus of the Rhapsodes ("Ten Years now are past since
Troy in the Dust was laid"), set to an accompaniment of harps. A simple
and tender melody ("Let me then depart in Peace"), sung by Odysseus, in
which the chorus singers gradually join, closes the scene. The eighth
scene contains the most expressive solo number of the work, Penelope's
aria ("This Garment by Day I weave in my Sorrow"), with a characteristic
descriptive accompaniment. The gems of the ninth scene are Odysseus'
passionate aria ("O my Fatherland! blest Remembrance!") and his furious
revenge song ("Miscreant! woe to Thee"). The last scene opens with a
joyous chorus of the people ("Say, have ye heard the Tidings of Joy?"),
followed by a fervent duet between Odysseus and Penelope ("Omnipotent
Zeus! we call on thy Name"). The final chorus begins in chorale style
("In Flames ascending"), and after repeating the melody of Odysseus' song
in the seventh scene ("Nowhere abides such Delight"), closes with a fine
fugued passage ("Slayer of Darkness").

BUCK.

Dudley Buck, one of the most eminent of American organists and composers,
was born March 10, 1839, at Hartford, Conn., where his father was engaged
in the mercantile business. He studied both the piano and organ, the
latter with such success that at the age of sixteen he was appointed
organist at St. John's Church in his native city. In 1858 he went to
Europe and entered the Leipsic Conservatory, where he studied the piano
with Plaidy and Moscheles, and composition with Hauptmann and Richter.
After remaining there a year and a half he went to Dresden and began the
study of Bach's music with Johann Schneider. A year and a half later he
went to Paris, and there acquainted himself with French music and
musicians. He returned to this country in 1862, and accepted the position
of organist at the Park Church, Hartford, but after the death of his
parents removed to Chicago, where he obtained the position of organist at
St. James's Episcopal Church, and also devoted much of his time to
teaching and composition. In that city his home became a musical centre.
His library, fine organ, and music-room were great attractions, and he
had laid the foundation of a brilliant musical career, when the great
fire of 1871 swept away his entire property, including many manuscript
compositions. Like many other musicians at that time he left the city,
seeing no prospect of advantage to him where it would require a long time
to recover purely material losses. He went with his family to Boston,
where his fame was already established, and obtained the position of
organist at St. Paul's Church, as well as the charge of the large organ
in the Music Hall. After remaining a short time in that city he removed
to New York, where he has since resided. His life has been a very busy
one, and he has had an important influence, both personally and in
connection with Theodore Thomas, upon the progress of music in this
country. It is not extravagant to say that there are few Protestant
churches whose music has not been dignified and improved by his
contributions, particularly of anthems and Te Deums, as well as of
compositions for the organ, of which he is a consummate master. Singing
societies are also indebted to him for many elegant four-part songs.
Among his larger works are the cantata "Don Munio" (1874); the
"Centennial," written for the Centennial at Philadelphia; "The Nun of
Nidaros" (1878); "The Golden Legend," which was the prize cantata at the
Cincinnati Festival of 1880; an Easter cantata; the Forty-sixth Psalm,
written for the Boston Handel and Haydn Society; two volumes of sacred
songs and motets; "Marmion," a symphonic overture, and other works for
orchestra; the cantatas "Voyage of Columbus" (1885) and the "Light of
Asia" (1886). The last two cantatas were issued in Europe, the one in
Germany and the other in England, and thus came to this country bearing a
foreign imprint,--a novelty for an American composer.

Don Munio

"Don Munio," a dramatic cantata for solos, chorus, and orchestra, was
written in 1874. The story of it is taken from Washington Irving's
Spanish papers, and the scene is laid in the period of the wars with the
Moors. While hunting one morning, Don Munio de Hinojosa captures a
cavalcade which is escorting the Moorish Prince, Abadil, and his
betrothed, Constanza, on the way to their wedding. The Prince, all escape
being cut off, seeks to purchase the good-will of Don Munio with his gold
and jewels, and implores him not to separate him from his affianced. The
Don, touched by their unfortunate condition, invites them to spend a
fortnight at his castle, promising that the nuptials shall be celebrated
there, and then they shall be released. The lovers accept, and Don Munio
is faithful to his promise. Shortly after their departure he is ordered
by the king to join in the expedition to Palestine. In one of the
encounters of this crusade he is killed by Abadil, who does not recognize
his former benefactor with his visor closed. His death is greatly mourned
in Spain, but they are consoled when Roderigo, a messenger from
Palestine, arrives and tells them that one evening while strolling near
the Holy Sepulchre he saw seventy Christian knights riding in ghostly
procession, with the late Don Munio at their head. This is regarded as an
assurance that all is well with him. _Requiescat in pace._

These are the incidents which Mr. Buck has chosen for musical treatment,
and he has done the work excellently well. After the orchestral
introduction follows a spirited hunting-song for male chorus. The next
scene opens in the chamber of Donna Maria, wife of Don Munio, who laments
his absence in a minor strain, to which succeeds a rondo movement. The
third is religious in character, marked "Evening. Close of vesper service
in the chapel of the castle. Escobedo, the chaplain, with the women, and
such retainers as have not followed Don Munio on his expedition." It
begins with a prelude closing with full orchestra and organ, and leading
to barytone solo and chorus, and a short exhortation to prayer by
Escobedo. The next number is an Ave Maria for full chorus, which is very
beautifully harmonized. In the next scene we encounter Don Munio in the
forest, and are treated to the conventional hunting-song. The next number
hints at the approach of the Moors, which is soon disclosed by a pretty
three-part chorus of "the females of the Moorish cavalcade as they
journey." The eighth scene contains some powerful chorus work, divided
between the furious Spaniards and the frightened women, and set to a very
vigorous accompaniment. After the tumult ends, Abadil very melodiously
appeals to Don Munio, followed by a brief arioso in which the latter
makes his terms, and a spirited chorus of gratitude to the Don, which
close the first part.

After a short prelude, the second part opens with a tenor aria for Abadil
("O, thou my Star") which is very refined in sentiment. It is followed by
the chorale "Jesu, dulcis Memoria," sung by the chapel choir. A duet
ensues between the two lovers on the castle terrace, which is very
Italian in its flavor, and one of the most effective numbers in the
cantata. The next two numbers furnish the wedding music,--a happy bridal
chorus, and a charming bolero for orchestra. These lead to an
unaccompanied quartet between Don Munio, Donna Maria, Abadil, and
Constanza ("It is the Lot of Friends to part"). In the next scene occurs
a vigorous duet between Don Munio and his wife, in which he informs her
of his speedy departure for Palestine, followed by a stirring battle-hymn
for male chorus. The next scene, "The chapel of the castle, choir
chanting the dirge for the dead," is in strong contrast with the
preceding. Mr. Buck has rarely written anything better in his sacred
music than this beautiful requiem. In the next two numbers the messenger
describes the manner of Don Munio's death, and the ghostly vision at the
sepulchre, and at the end of his message the requiem changes to a
jubilant chorus of gratitude ("In thankful Hymns ascending"). "Don Munio"
is one of the most powerful and spontaneous of American compositions, and
needs but little more amplification to deserve the name of opera.

The Centennial Meditation of Columbia.

The National Centennial celebration at Philadelphia was inaugurated May
10, 1876, with a special musical programme, in which the cantata with the
above formidable title occupied a prominent place. The ode was written by
Sydney Lanier, of Georgia, a poet who prior to that time had made
considerable reputation by two poems printed in "Lippincott's Magazine."
The national idea was satisfied by assigning the music to Dudley Buck, at
that time living in Connecticut. It must be acknowledged that the work
did not make a deep impression, although it contains some excellent
musical writing, and for two sufficient reasons. First, it is not a work
of musical genius or inspiration, as it was ordered by a commission for a
popular show. It was not singular in this respect. The "Centennial
March," written by Richard Wagner, for the same occasion, is page after
page of sound and fury, executed for a most exorbitant remuneration. To
ascertain its real want of inspiration one has but to place it by the
side of the "Kaiser March," with its massive chords, its grand thematic
treatment, and its stately movement, the outcome of patriotic fervor and
national triumph. Second, the stilted and unmusical lines furnished by
Mr. Lanier must have hampered the composer in every verse. This is all
the more remarkable because Mr. Lanier himself was a practical musician.
He had been for some time a violinist in the Peabody orchestra at
Baltimore, under that accomplished leader, Asgar Hamerik. It is
remarkable, therefore, that he should not have recognized the
difficulties he was placing in the way both of the composer and the
performers.

The ode has sixty-one lines, divided into eight stanzas of unequal
lengths. It sketches the past and present of the nation, the powers which
opposed its progress and hindered the development of its freedom, and the
elements which at last produced success, closing with cheering auguries
for the future, and a welcome to the world. All this might have been set
to smooth and fluent verse, which would readily have adapted itself to
music; but what composer could have treated successfully such verses as
these?--

"Mayflower, Mayflower, slowly hither flying,
Trembling westward o'er yon balking sea,
Hearts within, 'Farewell, dear England,' sighing,
Winds without, 'But dear in vain,' replying,
Gray-lipp'd waves about thee shouted, crying,
'No! it shall not be!'

"Jamestown, out of thee--
Plymouth, thee--thee, Albany--
Winter cries, 'Ye freeze; away!'
Fever cries, 'Ye burn; away!'
Hunger cries, 'Ye starve; away!'
Vengeance cries, 'Your graves shall stay!'

"Hark!
Huguenots whispering 'Yea' in the dark,
Puritans answering 'Yea' in the dark!
'Yea,' like an arrow shot true to his mark,
Darts through the tyrannous heart of Denial.
Patience and Labor and solemn-souled Trial,
Foiled, still beginning,
Soiled, but not sinning,
Toil through the stertorous death of the Night,
Toil, when wild brother-wars new-dark the light,
Toil, and forgive, and kiss o'er, and re-plight."

Even in the last verse, where the composer must make his climax, and the
singers must be most effective, they are confronted with this unsingable
line:--

"And wave the world's best lover's welcome to the world."

The only musical verse is the reply of the angel to Columbia in the midst
of her ragged and cacophonous meditation, which the composer selected as
a solo for bass voice:[20]--

"Long as thine Art shall love true love,
Long as thy Science truth shall know,
Long as thine Eagle harms no Dove,
Long as thy Law by law shall grow,
Long as thy God is God above,
Thy brother every man below,
So long, dear Land of all my love,
Thy name shall shine, thy fame shall grow."

The prelude for orchestra determines the motive of the whole cantata, and
is very spirited; for here, at least, the composer was not hampered by
words. The opening verse,--

"From this hundred-terraced height,"

is set very effectively in chorale form; but the next two verses, already
quoted, are arranged for semi-chorus and full chorus, and close in a
vocal stretto quite as hysterical as the words. Then follows the
whispering of the Huguenots and Puritans, commencing _sotto voce_, and
gradually increasing to a _forte_ at the close. A few bars for the horn
lead to the bass solo, "Long as thine Art," with horn obligato,--a very
impressive and dignified aria, and one which would speedily become a
favorite in the concert-room if adapted to the words. The final number
("Music from this Height of Time") begins in full choral harmony and
closes with a vigorous and well-written fugue.

[20] Sung upon that occasion by Mr. Myron D. Whitney.

The Golden Legend.

"The Golden Legend" was written in competition for the prize of one
thousand dollars, which the Cincinnati May Festival Association offered
in 1879 for the best work of a native composer. The judges were Theodore
Thomas, Otto Singer, Asgar Hamerik, Carl Zerrahn, and the late Dr.
Leopold Damrosch. Their award was made to "The Golden Legend," and it was
first performed at the Festival of 1880, with Miss Annie B. Norton as
Elsie, Mr. Frederick Harvey as Prince Henry, Mr. J. F. Rudolphsen as
Lucifer, and Mr. M. D. Whitney as Friar Paul.

The text of the cantata is composed of a prologue, epilogue, and twelve
scenes taken from Longfellow's Episode in "Christus" by the same name.
The mediæval story is a very simple one. Prince Henry of Hoheneck,
stricken down with an incurable ailment, after vainly seeking a remedy,
is visited by Lucifer disguised as a physician, who tempts him to adopt a
remedy prescribed by a doctor of Salerno; namely, the blood of a maiden
who will voluntarily offer herself as a sacrifice. Elsie devotes her life
to the Prince, and they journey together to Salerno, where her death must
take place. Arrived at the spot, the Prince, touched by her magnanimity,
entreats her to forego her purpose; but she insists upon it, bids him
farewell in the school, and enters an inner apartment with Lucifer
disguised as a friar. Before the tragedy can be consummated, the Prince
bursts open the door, with the aid of his followers, and rescues her. The
pair return to the castle on the Rhine, where of course the rapidly
convalescing Prince marries Elsie, and the story closes with an epilogue
reciting the discomfiture of Lucifer and the triumph of good over evil.

Out of this material the composer has constructed his work, eliminating
from and adding to the original matter to suit his musical scheme, but at
the same time preserving the general spirit of the story. After a very
spirited and energetic prelude, the prologue begins with the fruitless
attempt of Lucifer to pull down the cross on the spire of Strasburg
cathedral, the protests of the spirits of the air (first and second
sopranos), the defiance of the bells (male chorus) as each attempt fails,
and the final disappearance of the spirits amid the chanting of the
majestic Latin hymn, "Nocte surgentes," by full chorus in the church,
accompanied by the organ. The second scene opens in Prince Henry's
chamber in the tower of the Vautsberg castle, and reminds one of the
opening scene of "Faust," as set by Gounod. After an expressive
declamation of his melancholy and his longing for rest and health ("I
cannot sleep, my fervid Brain calls up the vanished Past again"), Lucifer
appears in a flash of light, dressed as a travelling physician, and a
dialogue ensues, the purport of which has already been told, which closes
with an ingenious and beautifully-written number for the two voices,
accompanied by a four-part chorus of mixed voices and a small semi-chorus
of sopranos and altos ("Golden Visions wave and hover"). The fourth scene
is an unaccompanied quartet, "The Evening Song," sung by Elsie, Bertha,
Max, and Gottlieb in their peasant home in the Odenwald, as they light
the lamps ("O gladsome Light of the Father"). It is a simple, tranquil
hymn, but full of that sacred sentiment which this composer expresses so
admirably in music. The fifth scene, Elsie's prayer in her chamber ("My
Redeemer and my Lord"), in its calm beauty and religious feeling makes a
fitting pendant to the quartet. In the next number, the orchestra is
utilized to carry on the action, and in march tempo describes the
pilgrimage to Salerno with stately intervals, in which is heard the
sacred song, "Urbs coelestis, urbs beata," supposed to be sung by the
pilgrims "moving slowly on their long journey with uncovered feet." The
seventh scene is laid in the refectory of the convent of Hirschau, in the
Black Forest, where Lucifer enters the gaudiolum of monks, disguised as a
friar, and sings the rollicking Latin drinking-song, "Ave color vini
clari," which Mr. Edmund C. Stedman versified for this work as follows:--

"Hail! thou vintage clear and ruddy!
Sweet of taste and fine of body,
Through thine aid we soon shall study
How to make us glorious!

"Oh! thy color erubescent!
Oh! thy fragrance evanescent!
Oh! within the mouth how pleasant!
Thou the tongue's prætorius!

"Blest the stomach where thou wendest!
Blest the throat which thou distendest!
Blest the mouth which thou befriendest,
And the lips victorious!

Chorus of Monks.

"Pour the wine, then, pour it!
Let the wave bear all before it!
There's none to score it,
So pour it in plenty, pour it!"

The next number is for orchestra only, and once more the instruments are
used for a continuance of the action by a description of the carousal of
the monks in a characteristic allegro bacchanale, the abbot testifying
his indignation through the medium of the trombone and the use of the
Gregorian melody. The sentiment of the latter is expressed by the
following verse:--

"What mean this revel and carouse?
Is this a tavern and drinking-house?
Are you Christian monks or heathen devils,
To pollute this convent with your revels?"

The ninth scene changes to Genoa. Elsie, on a terrace overlooking the
sea, sings a charming aria ("The Night is calm and cloudless"), with a
choral refrain of "Kyrie Eleison." The tenth is a graceful barcarolle for
orchestra, but it is somewhat in the nature of an interpolation, and is
only connected with the movement of the story by a thin thread, as will
be seen from the verse which gives its motive:--

"The fisherman who lies afloat,
With shadowy sail in yonder boat,
Is singing softly to the night.
A single step and all is o'er;
And thou, dear Elsie, wilt be free
From martyrdom and agony."

The eleventh scene is a spirited and beautifully-written male chorus of
sailors ("The Wind upon our Quarter lies"). The twelfth reaches the
climax in the scene at the college of Salerno between Lucifer, Elsie, and
the Prince, with accompaniment of attendants, and is very dramatic
throughout. It is followed by a tender love-duet for Elsie and the Prince
on the terrace of the castle of Vautsberg, which leads to the epilogue,
"O Beauty of Holiness," for full chorus and orchestra, in which the
composer is at his very best both in the construction of the vocal parts
and the elaborately worked-up accompaniments.

The Voyage of Columbus.

"The Voyage of Columbus" was written in 1885, and first published in
Germany. The text of the libretto was prepared by the composer himself,
extracts from Washington Irving's "Columbus" forming the theme of each of
the six scenes, all of which are supposed to transpire at evening, and
are therefore styled by the composer "night-scenes." Their arrangement,
which is very skilfully accomplished, is as follows:--

Scene I. In the chapel of St. George at Palos, Aug. 2, 1492. "The
squadron being ready to put to sea, Columbus, with his officers and crew,
confessed themselves to the friar, Juan Perez. They entered upon the
enterprise full of awe, committing themselves to the especial guidance
and protection of Heaven."

Scene II. On the deck of the Santa Maria. "Eighteen years elapsed after
Columbus conceived his enterprise before he was enabled to carry it into
effect. The greater part of that time was passed in almost hopeless
solicitation, poverty, and ridicule."

Scene III. The Vesper Hymn. "In the evening, according to the invariable
custom on board the admiral's ship, the mariners sang the Vesper Hymn to
the Virgin."

Scene IV. Discontent and Mutiny. "In this way they fed each other's
discontent, gathering into little knots, and fomenting a spirit of
mutinous opposition ... finally breaking forth into turbulent clamor."

Scene V. In distant Andalusia. "He compares the pure and balmy mornings
to those of April in Andalusia, and observes that they wanted but the
song of the nightingale to complete the illusion."

Scene VI. Land and Thanksgiving. "As the evening darkened, Columbus took
his station on the top of the castle or cabin, on the high poop of his
vessel, ranging his eye along the horizon, and maintaining an intense and
unremitting watch."

The cantata opens with a brief orchestral prelude of a sombre character
begun by the trombone sounding the Gregorian intonation, and leading to
the barytone solo of the priest ("Ye men of Spain, the Time is nigh"),
appealing to the crew to commit themselves to Heaven, to which the full
male chorus responds with ever-increasing power, reaching the climax in
the "Ora pro nobis." Twice the priest repeats his adjuration, followed by
the choral response, the last time with joy and animation as the flag of
Castile is raised and they bid farewell to the shores of Spain. A short
allegro brings the scene to a close.

The second scene is a bass aria for Columbus ("Eighteen long Years of
Labor, Doubt, and Scorn"), of a vigorous and spirited character, changing
to a solemn adagio in the prayer, "Lord of all Power and Might," and
closing with a few spirited phrases in the opening tempo. It is followed
by the Vesper Hymn, "Ave Maris Stella," a number in which the composer's
eminent ability in sacred music is clearly shown. Its tranquil harmony
dies away in the softest of pianissimos, and is followed by an agitated
prelude introducing the furious chorus of the mutinous crew "Come,
Comrades, come," which gathers intensity as it progresses, voices and
instruments uniting in broken but powerful phrases, sometimes in full
chorus and again in solo parts, until the climax is reached, when
Columbus intervenes in brief solos of great dignity, to which the chorus
responds, the scene closing with the renewal of allegiance,--a stirring
bass solo with choral accompaniment.

The fifth scene is a tenor recitative and love-song of a most graceful
character, and one which will become a favorite when it is well known:--

"In Andalusia the nightingale
Sings,--sings through the live-long night;
Sings to its mate in pure delight:
But, ah me! ah, my love!
Vanished and lost to my sight
In distant Andalusia."

The final scene is very elaborate in its construction, and brings the
work to a sonorous and stately close. It opens with a very dramatic
recitative by Columbus ("The Night is dark, but many a Sign seen through
this Day proclaims the Goal at Hand"), at the close of which there is a
short orchestral prelude, which serves to introduce a trio ("Here at your
Bidding") for Columbus and two officers (first tenor and first bass). At
the cry of a seaman, "Land ho!" the chorus responds with animation.
Columbus bids his crew join him "in prayer and grateful praise." The
answer comes in a splendidly-written "Hallelujah," which is fairly
majestic in its progression, reaching its close in full broad harmony,
with the accompanying strains of trumpets.

The Light of Asia.

Mr. Buck's latest cantata, "The Light of Asia," well-nigh reaches the
dimensions of an opera or oratorio. It was written in 1886 and first
published in England. Its name reveals its source, and the composer has
made compensation for the privilege of using Mr. Edwin Arnold's beautiful
poem, by a graceful dedication of the work to him. The libretto was
prepared by the composer himself, who has shown great skill in making his
selections in such manner as not to disturb the continuity of the story.
The purely philosophical portions are omitted, and only those are
retained which have a human interest. In this manner he has avoided the
obstacle which the lack of human sympathy in the poem, beautiful as it
is, would otherwise have placed in his way. The text, as will be
remembered, has no definite metre, much of it being in blank verse, and
does not readily lend itself to musical expression; but it will be
conceded that the composer has also overcome this difficulty in a very
remarkable manner. The cantata is divided into four parts,--Prologue, the
Renunciation and Temptation, the Return, and Epilogue and Finale.

The first part has nine numbers. A brief prelude leads to the opening
chorus:--

"Below the highest sphere four regents sit,
Who rule the world; and under them are zones
Nearer, but high, where saintliest spirits dead,
Wait thrice ten thousand years, then live again."

It begins with a fugue, opened by the basses, simple in its construction
but stately in theme and very dignified throughout. It is followed by a
bass solo of descriptive character ("The King gave Order that his Town
should keep high Festival"), closing with a few choral measures, _sotto
voce_, relating that the King had ordered a festival in honor of the
advent of Buddha, and how a venerable saint, Asita, recognized the
divinity of the child and "the sacred primal signs," and foretold his
mission. The third number is the description of the young Siddârtha, set
in graceful recitative and semi-chorus for female voices, with a charming
accompaniment. The fourth is a spring song ("O come and see the Pleasance
of the Spring"), begun by tenors and basses and then developing into full
chorus with animated descriptive effects for the orchestra, picturing
"the thickets rustling with small life," the rippling waters among the
palms, the blue doves' cooings, the jungles laughing with the
nesting-songs, and the far-off village drums beating for marriage feasts.
A recitative for bass ("Bethink ye, O my Ministers"), in which the King
counsels with his advisers as to the training of the child, leads to a
four-part song for tenors and basses ("Love will cure these thin
Distempers"), in which they urge him to summon a court of pleasure in
which the young prince may award prizes to the fair. Then

"If one or two
Change the fixed sadness of his tender cheek,
So may we choose for love with love's own eye."

The King orders the festival, and in the next number--a march and
animated three-part chorus for female voices--Kapilavastu's maidens flock
to the gate, "each with her dark hair newly smoothed and bound." Then
comes the recognition, briefly told in soprano recitative. Yasôdhara
passes, and "at sudden sight of her he changed." A beautiful love-duet
for soprano and tenor ("And their Eyes mixed, and from the Look sprang
Love") closes the scene. The next number is a bass solo narrating the
triumph of Siddârtha over all other suitors, leading to a jubilant and
graceful wedding chorus ("Enter, thrice-happy! enter, thrice-desired!"),
the words of which are taken from the "Indian Song of Songs."

The second part opens with a soprano solo describing his pleasure with
Yasôdhara, in the midst of which comes the warning of the Devas:--

"We are the voices of the wandering wind,
That moan for rest and rest can never find.
Lo! as the wind is, so is mortal life,--
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife."

This number is a semi-chorus, set for female voices, interspersed with
brief phrases for tenor, and after a bass solo, relating the King's dream
and the hermit's interpretation, which induces him to doubly guard
Siddârtha's pleasure-house, leads up to a beautiful chorus, divided
between two sopranos, alto, two tenors, and two basses:--

"Softly the Indian night sunk o'er the plain,
Fragrant with blooms and jewelled thick with stars,
And cool with mountain airs sighing adown
From snow-flats on Himâla high outspread.
The moon above the eastern peaks
Silvered the roof-tops of the pleasure-house,
And all the sleeping land."

The next scene opens with a soprano solo ("Within the Bower of inmost
Splendor"), in which Yasôdhara relates her dream of the voice crying "The
Time is nigh," to Siddârtha, and closes with a tender duet for soprano
and tenor. The next number is a brief chorus ("Then in her Tears she
slept"), followed by the tenor solo, "I will depart," in which Siddârtha
proclaims his resolve "to seek deliverance and the unknown light," and
leading to a richly-colored and majestic chorus:

"There came a wind which lulled each sense aswoon
Of captains and of soldiers:
The gates of triple brass rolled back all silently
On their grim hinges;
Then, lightly treading, where those sleepers lay,
Into the night Siddârtha passed,
While o'er the land a tremor spread,
As if earth's soul beneath stirred with an unknown hope,
And rich celestial music thrilled the air
From hosts on hosts of shining ones."

A tenor solo describes the six long years of wandering, followed by a
characteristic chorus of voices of earth and air bidding him pass to the
tree under whose leaves it was foretold that truth should come to him for
the saving of the world. A short bass recitative leads to a vigorous
descriptive chorus relating the temptations of Siddârtha, in which the
orchestra is used with masterly effect. A brief soprano solo, the
apparition of Yasôdhara among the wanton shapes floating about the tree,
imploring him to return, and the tenor response, bidding the shadow
depart, intervene; and then the chorus resumes with increased vigor,
reaching a furious climax as the legions of hell tempt him, but dying
away in the close to phrases of tender beauty:--

"Radiant, rejoicing, strong, Buddha arose,
And far and near there spread an unknown peace.
As that divinest daybreak lightened earth,
The world was glad."

The third part (the Return) opens with a soprano solo of a slow and
mournful character, relating the sorrow of Yasôdhara and the visit of her
damsels, who announce the arrival of merchants with tidings of Siddârtha.
They are summoned, and tell their story in a short chorus, which is
followed by a brief soprano solo ("Uprose Yasôdhara with Joy"), an
exultant chorus ("While the Town rang with Music"), and another brief
phrase for soprano, leading to a fine choral outburst ("'Tis he!
Siddârtha, who was lost"). The next number, a bass solo describing the
King's wrath when he learns that Siddârtha has returned as a yellow-robed
hermit instead of with "shining spears and tramp of horse and foot," is
very sonorous as well as dramatic, and is followed by a tenor and bass
dialogue developing into a trio of great beauty ("Thus passed the Three
into the Way of Peace"). The final number is a masterpiece of choral work
both in the elaborateness of its construction and the majesty of its
effect, and brings the cantata to a close with the mystic words:--

"The Dew is on the Lotus! Rise, great Sun!
And lift my leaf and mix it with the wave.
The Sunrise comes! the Sunrise comes!
The Dewdrop slips into the shining sea.
Hail, High Deliverer, Hail!"

CORDER.

Frederick Corder, the English composer and conductor, was born at
Hackney, London, Jan. 26, 1852. He was a student at the Royal Academy of
Music in 1874, and in the following year gained the Mendelssohn
scholarship. From 1875 to 1878 he studied at Cologne with Hiller, and in
1879 returned to London, where he engaged for a time in literary
pursuits. His abilities as a writer are very clearly shown in the
librettos to his works. In 1880 he was appointed conductor of the
orchestra at the Brighton Aquarium, and since that time he has devoted
himself to teaching and composition. His principal works are "In the
Black Forest," an orchestral suite, and "Evening on the Seashore," idyl
for orchestra (1876); the opera "Morte d'Arthur" (1877); the one-act
opera "Philomel" (1879); cantata, "The Cyclops" (1880); "Ossian," a
concert overture for orchestra, produced by the London Philharmonic
Society (1882); the cantata "Bridal of Triermain" (1886); and the opera
"Nordisa," founded upon a Norwegian subject and brought out with great
success in January, 1887 by the Carl Rosa opera troupe. Mr. Corder is one
of the most ambitious and promising of all the younger English composers,
and his music shows in a special degree the influence of Wagner. That he
has also literary talent of a high order is evinced by his contributions
to periodical literature and the librettos of his last two works,--"The
Bridal of Triermain" and "Nordisa."

The Bridal of Triermain.

"The Bridal of Triermain" was written for the Wolverhampton (England)
Festival of 1886, and was one of the most notable successes in the
festival performances of that year. The subject is taken from Walter
Scott's poem of the same name. The adaptation has been made in a very
free manner, but the main incidents of the poem have been carefully
preserved. Sir Roland's vision of the "Maid of Middle Earth;" the bard
Lyulph's recital of the Arthurian legend, which tells of Gyneth's
enchantment in the valley of St. John by Merlin, where she must sleep

"Until a knight shall wake thee
For feats of arms as far renowned
As warrior of the Table Round;"

the magic wrought by Merlin in the valley to delude Roland and thwart his
effort to rescue Gyneth; his daring entrance into the palace grounds; the
discovery of the Princess in the enchanted hall, and her final rescue are
the themes which the composer has treated. In arranging his libretto he
has, as has been said, made a free adaptation of the poem, sometimes
using verses entire, at other times changing the text and rearranging it
to suit the composer's musical demands, even at the expense of the
original beauty and symmetry of the work.

The cantata has no overture, but opens with a choral introduction ("Where
is the Maiden of Mortal Strain?"). An orchestral interlude in the form of
a tender graceful nocturne follows, leading up to the tenor solo, "The
Dawn of an autumn Day did creep," in which the Baron relates the
apparition he has seen in his dream. A short bass recitative by Lyulph
the bard introduces the Legend, which is told in an effective number for
soprano solo, bass solo, and chorus ("In Days e'en Minstrels now
forget"). The next number, a very dramatic dialogue for soprano and
tenor, gives us the conversation between Arthur and Gyneth, and leads to
an energetic full chorus with very descriptive accompaniment, picturing
the bloody tourney and its sudden interruption by the appearance of
Merlin the enchanter. The first part closes with a charming number
("'Madmen,' he cried, 'your Strife forbear'") arranged for bass solo,
quartet, and chorus, in which is described the spell which Merlin casts
upon Gyneth.

The second part, after a short allegro movement for orchestra, opens with
a contralto solo ("Of wasted Fields and plundered Flocks") which prepares
the way for a concerted number for solos and chorus ("And now the Moon
her Orb has hid"), describing the magical arts which Merlin employed to
thwart the Baron. This number alone is sufficient to stamp Mr. Corder as
a composer of extraordinary ability. A succession of bass, tenor, and
contralto recitatives ("Wroth waxed the Warrior") leads to another
powerful chorus ("Rash Adventurer, bear thee back"), the song of the
"four maids whom Afric bore," in which the composer has caught the weird,
strange color of the scene and given it vivid expression. A tenor
recitative ("While yet the distant Echoes roll") leads up to a graceful,
sensuous soprano solo and female chorus ("Gentle Knight, awhile delay").
Its counterpart is found in the tenor recitative and spirited, dignified
male chorus ("Son of Honor, Theme of Story"). The _dénouement_ now
begins. A contralto solo, declamatory in style ("In lofty Hall, with
Trophies graced"), and a short soprano solo of a joyous character ("Thus
while she sang") lead to the final number ("Gently, lo! the Warrior
kneels"), beginning with full chorus, which after short solos for tenor
and soprano takes a spirited martial form ("And on the Champion's Brow
was found") and closes with a quartet and chorus worked up to an imposing
climax.

The work is largely in narrative form; but this, instead of being a
hindrance, seems to have been an advantage to the composer, who has not
failed to invest his music with dramatic force that is remarkable. Mr.
Corder is credited with being an ardent disciple of Wagner, and his
cantata certainly shows the influences of that school. It is throughout a
vigorous, effective work, and gives promise that its composer will yet be
heard from outside the English musical world.

COWEN.

Frederic H. Cowen, the favorite English song-writer, was born at
Kingston, Jamaica, Jan. 29, 1852, and went to England at a very early
age. His first teachers were Benedict and Sir J. Goss, with whom he
studied until 1865. During the next three years he continued his musical
education at the conservatories of Leipsic and Berlin, returning to
England in 1868. His earlier works were an operetta called "Garibaldi," a
fantasie-sonata and piano concerto, a few pieces of chamber music, and a
symphony in C minor. These served to introduce him to public notice, and
since that time nearly all of his works have met with remarkable success,
among them "The Rose Maiden" (1870); music to Schiller's "Joan of Arc"
(1871); festival overture (1872); "The Corsair," composed for the
Birmingham Festival of 1876; a symphony in F major and the Norwegian
symphony, which have been favorably received in this country. His most
important opera is "Pauline," which was produced in London with great
success by the Carl Rosa company, Nov. 22, 1876. As a song-writer, Mr.
Cowen is also well known; many of his lyrics, especially those written
for Antoinette Sterling and Mrs. E. Aline Osgood, the American singers,
having obtained a wide-spread popularity.

The Sleeping Beauty.

"The Sleeping Beauty," written for the Birmingham Festival of 1885, the
poem by Francis Hueffer, has for its theme the well-known fairy tale
which has been so often illustrated in music and upon canvas. It is a
great favorite in England, and has also met with a successful reception
in Paris, where it was brought out not long since by the Concordia
Society of that city, under the title of "La Belle au Bois Dormant," the
translation having been made by Miss Augusta Holmes, herself a musician
of considerable repute.

After a brief orchestral introduction, a three-part chorus (altos,
tenors, and basses) tells the story of the ancient King to whom an
heiress was born when all hope of offspring had been abandoned, the gay
carousal which he ordered, and the sudden appearance of the twelve fays,
guardians of his house, with their spinning-wheels and golden flax, who
sing as they weave:--

"Draw the thread and weave the woof
For the little child's behoof:
Future, dark to human eyes,
Openly before us lies;
As we will and as we give,
Haply shall the maiden live;
Draw the thread and weave the woof
For the little child's behoof."

In beauty of melody and gracefulness of orchestration this chorus of the
fays is specially noticeable. Its charming movement, however, is
interrupted by a fresh passage for male chorus, of an agitated character,
describing the entrance of the Wicked Fay, who bends over the cradle of
the child and sings a characteristic contralto aria:--

"From the gold of the flaxen reel
Threads of bliss have been spun to thee;
By the whirl of the spinning wheel
Cruel grief shall be done to thee.
Thy fate I descry:
Ere the buds of thy youth are blown,
Ere a score of thy years have flown,
Thou shalt prick thy hand, thou shalt die."

Following this aria, the male chorus has a few measures, invoking a curse
upon the Fay, which leads to a full chorus of an animated character,
foretelling that there shall dawn a day when a young voice, more powerful
than witchcraft, will save her; at the close of which the guardian fays
are again heard drawing the thread and weaving the woof in low, murmuring
tones, with a spinning accompaniment. It is followed by a trio (soprano,
tenor, and bass), with chorus accompaniment, announcing the departure of
the fays, and leading to a very melodious tenor solo, with two graceful
orchestral interludes, which moralizes on what has occurred and closes
the prologue.

The first scene opens in a hall in the King's palace, and is full of
animation. A brilliant orchestral prelude leads to the full chorus in
waltz time ("At Dawn of Day on the first of May"), which moves along with
a fascinating swing, and closes in a very vigorous climax. At this point
the King makes his appearance and expresses his joy that the time has
passed when the prophecy of the Wicked Fay could take effect, for this is
the Princess's twentieth birthday. A dialogue follows between the King
and his daughter, closing with a beautiful chorus ("Pure as thy Heart"),
after which the dance-music resumes. Unobserved the Princess leaves the
banqueting-hall, glides along a gallery, and ascends the staircase to a
turret chamber. Before she enters she sings an aria, of a tranquil,
dreamy nature ("Whither away, my Heart?"), and interwoven with it are
heard the gradually lessening strains of the dance-music, which ceases
altogether as her song comes to an almost inaudible close.

The second scene opens in the turret chamber, where the Wicked Fay,
disguised as an old crone, is spinning. After a short dialogue, in which
the Fay explains to the Princess the use of the wheel, she bids her
listen, and sings a weird ballad ("As I sit at my Spinning-wheel, strange
Dreams come to me"), closing with the refrain of the old prophecy, "Ere
the Buds of her Youth are blown." The Princess dreamily repeats the
burden of the song, and then, fearing the presence of some ill-omen,
opens the door to escape. She hears the dance-music again, but the Fay
gently draws her back and induces her to touch the flax. As she does so,
the Fay covertly pricks her finger with the spindle. She swoons away, the
dance-music suddenly stops, and there is a long silence, broken at last
by the Fay's triumphant declaration: "Thus have I wrought my Vengeance."
The next number is the Incantation Music ("Spring from the Earth, red
Roses"), a very dramatic declamation, sung by the Fay and interwoven with
snatches of chorus and the refrain of the prophecy. A choral interlude
("Sleep in Bower and Hall") follows, describing in a vivid manner, both
with voices and instruments, the magic sleep that fell upon the castle
and all its inmates, and the absence of all apparent life save the
spiders weaving their webs on the walls as the years go by:--

"The spells of witchcraft which enthrall
Each sleeper in that desolate hall,
Who can break them?
Say, who can lift the deathly blight
That covers king and lord and knight,
To give them back to life and light,
And awake them?"

The answer comes in an animated prelude, through which is heard the
strain of a horn signal, constantly growing louder, and heralding the
Prince, who enters the silent palace, sword in hand, among the sleeping
courtiers, knights, and ladies. After a vigorous declamation ("Light,
Light at last") he passes on his way to the turret chamber, where he
beholds the sleeping Princess. The love-song which follows ("Kneeling
before Thee, worshipping wholly") is one of the most effective portions
of the work. His kiss awakes her, and as she springs up, the dance-music
at once resumes from the bar where it had stopped in the scene with the
Wicked Fay. An impassioned duet follows, and the work closes with the
animated waltz-chorus which opened the first scene.

DVORÁK.

Anton Dvorák, the Bohemian composer who has risen so suddenly into
prominence, was born at Mülhausen, near Prague, Sept. 8, 1841. His father
combined the business of tavern-keeper and butcher, and young Dvorák
assisted him in waiting upon customers, as well as in the slaughtering
business. As the laws of Bohemia stipulate that music shall be a part of
common-school education, Dvorák learned the rudiments in the village
school, and also received violin instruction. At the age of thirteen he
went to work for an uncle, who resided in the village where the
schoolmaster was a proficient musician. The latter, recognizing his
ability, gave him lessons on the organ, and allowed him to copy music.
Piano lessons followed, and he had soon grounded himself quite thoroughly
in counterpoint. At the age of sixteen he was admitted to the
organ-school of Prague, of which Joseph Pitsch was the principal. Pitsch
died soon after, and was succeeded by Kreyci, who made Dvorák acquainted
with the music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn. The first
orchestral work he heard was Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony," during its
rehearsal under Spohr's direction. In 1860, being then in his nineteenth
year, he obtained an engagement, with the meagre salary of one hundred
and twenty-five dollars a year, as violinist in a band that played at
cafés and dances. Two years later he secured a position in the Bohemian
Opera House at Prague, then under the direction of Mayer, where he
remained until 1871, in which year he left the theatre and devoted
himself to teaching, with the prospect of earning two hundred and fifty
dollars a year. These were hard days for the young musician; but while he
was there struggling for a bare subsistence, he continued writing
compositions, though he had no prospect of selling them or of having them
played. About this time he wrote his "Patriotic Hymn" and the opera
"König und Köhler." The latter was rejected after an orchestral trial;
but he continued his work, undaunted by failure. Shortly after this he
received the appointment of organist at the Adelbert Church, Prague, and
fortune began to smile upon him. His Symphony in F was laid before the
Minister of Instruction in Vienna, and upon the recommendation of Herbeck
secured him a grant of two hundred dollars. When Brahms replaced Herbeck
on the committee which reported upon artists' stipends, he fully
recognized Dvorák's ability, and not only encouraged him, but also
brought him before the world by securing him a publisher and commending
him to Joachim, who still further advanced his interests by securing
performances of his works in Germany and England. Since that time he has
risen rapidly, and is now recognized as one of the most promising of
living composers. Among his works which have been produced during the
past few years are the "Stabat Mater," the cantata "The Spectre's Bride,"
three operas in the Czechist dialect, three orchestral symphonies,
several Slavonic rhapsodies, overtures, violin and piano concertos, an
exceedingly beautiful sextet, and numerous songs.

The Spectre's Bride.

The legend of the Spectre's Bride is current in various forms among all
the Slavonic nations. The Russians, Servians, Slovaks, Lithuanians, and
Poles all have poems in which the ghostly ride of the spectre and the
maiden forms the theme. The German version, told by Bürger in his famous
ballad "Lenore," is best known; and Raff has given it a musical setting
in his Lenore Symphony. In general, the story is the same. The Spectre
comes for his Bride and she rides away with him through the night, amid
all manner of supernatural horrors, only to find at the end that she has
ridden to the grave with a skeleton. The Bohemian poem used by Dvorák is
that of Karel Jaromir Erben, a poet who obtained a national fame by
making collections of the songs and legends of his country during his
service as Secretary of the Royal Bohemian Museum and Keeper of the
Archives at Prague. In his version, unlike the German, the Spectre and
his Bride make their grewsome journey on foot. The _dénouement_ in the
churchyard differs also, as the maiden is saved by an appeal to the
Virgin. In the opening scene she is represented gazing at a picture of
the Virgin, mourning the death of her parents and the absence of her
lover, who has failed to keep his promise to return. His parting words
were:--

"Sow flax, my love, I counsel thee,
And every day remember me.
Spin in the first year, spin with care,
Bleach in the next the fabric fair;
Then garments make, when the years are three,
And every day remember me.
Twine I that year a wreath for thee;
We two that year shall wedded be."

She has faithfully followed the counsel. The three years have expired,
but still no tidings have come. As she appeals to the Virgin to bring him
back, the picture moves, the flame of the lamp upleaps, there is an
ominous knock at the door, and the voice of the apparition is heard
urging her to cease praying and follow him to his home. She implores him
to wait until the night is past, but the importunate Spectre bids her go
with him, and she consents. On they speed over rough bowlders, through
thorny brakes and swamps, attended by the baying of wolves, the
screeching of owls, the croaking of frogs, and the fitful glow of
corpse-candles. One by one he compels her to throw away her prayer-book,
chaplet, and cross, and resisting all her appeals to stop and rest, at
last they reach the churchyard wall. He calms her fears with the
assurance that the church is his castle and the yard his garden, and bids
her leap the wall with him. She promises to follow him, but after he has
cleared it, sudden fear seizes her; she flies to a tiny house near by and
enters. A ghastly scene takes place; spectres are dancing before the
door, and the moonlight reveals to her a corpse lying upon a plank. As
she gazes, horror-stricken, a knock is heard, and a voice bids the dead
arise and thrust the living one out. Thrice the summons is repeated, and
then as the corpse opens its eyes and glares upon her, she prays once
more to the Virgin. At this instant the crowing of a cock is heard. The
dead man falls back, the ghastly, spectral crew disappear, and night
gives way to a peaceful morning.

"All who to Mass at morning went
Stood still in great astonishment;
One tomb there was to ruin gone,
And in the dead-house a maiden wan;
On looking round, amazed were they,
On every grave a garment lay.

"Well was it, maiden, that thy mind
Turned unto God, defence to find,
For He thy foes did harmless bind;
Had'st thou thyself, too, nothing done,
Ill with thy soul it then had gone;
Thy body, as the garments were,
Mangled had been, and scattered there."

Such is the horrible story which forms the theme of Dvorák's cantata. It
was written for the Birmingham Festival of 1884, and the text was
translated by the Rev. Dr. Troutbeck, from a German translation of the
original poem made by K. J. Müller. It contains eighteen numbers, each of
considerable length, of which eleven are descriptive, the barytone, with
chorus response, acting the part of the narrator, and accompanied by
instrumentation which vividly paints the horrors of the nocturnal tramp,
even to the realistic extent of imitating the various sounds described.
It is unnecessary to specify each of these numbers in detail, as they are
all closely allied in color and general effect. The music which
accompanies them is picturesque and weird, increasing in its power and
actual supernaturalism until it reaches its climax in the dead-house
where the maiden takes refuge; and in these numbers the orchestra bears
the burden of the work. The remaining numbers are almost magical in their
beauty and fascination, particularly the first song of the maiden,
lamenting her lover, and closing with the prayer to the Virgin, which is
thoroughly devotional music, and the second prayer, which saves her from
her peril. There are four duets, soprano and tenor, between the Bride and
Spectre, and one with chorus, in which are recounted the episodes of the
chaplet, prayer-book, and cross, besides the hurried dialogue between
them as he urges her on. These, too, abound in quaint rhythms and strange
harmonies set against a highly-colored instrumental background. The story
is not a pleasant one for musical treatment,--at least for voices,--and
the prevailing tone of the composition is sombre; but of the wonderful
power of the music and its strange fascination there can be no doubt.

FOOTE.

Arthur Foote, a rising young composer of Boston, whose works have already
made more than a local reputation, was born at Salem, Mass., March 5,
1853. While at Harvard College he studied composition with Prof. J. K.
Paine, and after graduation determined to devote himself to the musical
profession. He studied the piano-forte and organ with Mr. B. J. Lang of
Boston, and soon made his mark as a musician of more than ordinary
promise. Among his published works which have attracted favorable
attention are various songs and piano compositions; pieces for violin and
piano, violoncello and piano; a string quartet; trio for piano, violin,
and violoncello; and "Hiawatha," a ballad for male voices and orchestra.
A suite for strings, in manuscript, has obtained the honor of performance
at the London symphony concerts (January, 1887), and an overture, "In the
Mountains," also in manuscript, was played by the Boston Symphony
Orchestra in February, 1887. He is now living in Boston, where he is
engaged in teaching the piano and organ.

Hiawatha.

"The Farewell of Hiawatha," for barytone solo, male voices, and
orchestra, modestly styled by its composer a ballad, is a cantata in its
lighter form. Its subject is taken from Longfellow's familiar poem, and
includes the beautiful close of the legend beginning with the stanza:--

"From his place rose Hiawatha,
Bade farewell to old Nokomis,
Spake in whispers, spake in this wise,
Did not wake the guests, that slumbered."

The composer has made use of the remainder of the poem without change,
except in repetitions demanded by musical necessity and in the omission
of the seven lines immediately preceding the final words of farewell,
which does not mar the context. A short orchestral introduction, _andante
con moto_, followed by a chorus of tenors and basses in a few bars,
recitative in form and sung pianissimo, lead to a barytone solo for
Hiawatha ("I am going, O Nokomis") of a quiet and tender character. A
graceful phrase for the violoncello introduces another choral morceau
relating Hiawatha's farewell to the warriors ("I am going, O my People")
a melodious combination of sweetness and strength, though it only rises
to a display of energy in the single phrase, "The Master of Life has sent
them," after which it closes quietly, and tenderly, in keeping with the
sentiment of the text. The remainder of the work is choral. The westward
sail of Hiawatha into the "fiery sunset," "the purple vapors," and "the
dusk of evening" is set to a very picturesque accompaniment, which dies
away in soft strains as he disappears in the distance. An allegro
movement with a crescendo of great energy introduces the farewell of "the
forests dark and lonely," moving "through all their depths of darkness,"
of the waves "rippling on the pebbles," and of "the heron, the
Shuh-shuh-gah, from her haunts among the fen-lands." The last division of
the chorus is an allegro, beginning pianissimo and closing with an
exultant outburst:--

"Thus departed Hiawatha,
Hiawatha the Beloved,
In the glory of the sunset,
In the purple mists of evening,
To the regions of the home-wind,
Of the Northwest wind Keewaydin,
To the Islands of the Blessed,
To the kingdom of Ponemah,
To the land of the Hereafter!"

The work, which was written for the Apollo Club of Boston, is not a long
one, nor is it at all ambitious in style. The composer has evidently
tried to reflect the quiet and tender sentiment of the farewell in his
music, and has admirably succeeded. Poetic beauty is its most striking
feature, both in the instrumental parts, which are well sustained, and in
the vocal, which are earnest, expressive, and at times very pathetic, of
this pretty tone-picture.

GADE.

Niels W. Gade was born at Copenhagen, Oct. 22, 1817. His father was a
musical-instrument maker and intrusted his early education to the Danish
masters Wershall, Berggren, and Weyse. He made such good progress that he
soon entered the royal orchestra of that city as a violinist and began to
be known as a composer. His first important work, the overture
"Nachklänge von Ossian," obtained a prize from the Copenhagen Musical
Union and also secured for him the favor of the King, who provided him
with the means for making a foreign journey. Prior to starting he sent a
copy of a symphony to Mendelssohn, which met with the latter's
enthusiastic approval. He arrived at Leipsic in 1843, and after producing
his first symphony with success, travelled through Italy, returning to
Leipsic in 1844, where during the winter of that year he conducted the
Gewandhaus concerts in the place of Mendelssohn, who was absent in
Berlin. In the season of 1845-46 he assisted Mendelssohn in the same
concerts, and after the latter's death became the principal director, a
post which he held until 1848, when he returned to Copenhagen and took a
position as organist, and also conducted the concerts of the Musical
Union. In 1861 he was appointed Hofcapellmeister, and was honored with
the title of Professor of Music. Since that time he has devoted himself
to composition, and has produced many excellent works, especially for
festivals in England and elsewhere. Among them are the cantatas "Comala,"
"Spring Fantasie," "The Erl King's Daughter," "The Holy Night," "Spring's
Message," "The Crusaders," and "Zion;" the overtures "In the Highlands,"
"Hamlet," and "Michael Angelo;" seven symphonies, and a large number of
songs and piano pieces, as well as chamber-music compositions.

Comala.

"Comala," one of the earliest of Gade's larger vocal works, was first
produced at Leipsic in March, 1843. Its subject is taken from Ossian, and
relates the tragedy of "Comala," daughter of Sarno, King of Innistore,
who had conceived a violent passion for Fingal, King of Morven. Her love
is returned by the warrior, and disguised as a youth the princess follows
him on his expedition against Caracul, King of Lochlin. On the day of the
battle Fingal places her on a height, near the shore of the Carun, whence
she can overlook the fight, and promises her if victorious that he will
return at evening. Comala, though filled with strange forebodings,
hopefully waits her royal lover's coming. As the tedious hours pass on a
fearful storm arises, and amid the howling of the blast the spirits of
the fathers sweep by her on their way to the battlefield to conduct to
their home the souls of the fallen,--the same majestic idea which Wagner
uses with such consummate power in his weird ride of the Valkyries.
Comala imagines that the battle has been lost, and overcome with grief
falls to the ground and dies. The victorious Fingal returns as evening
approaches, accompanied by the songs of his triumphant warriors, only to
hear the tidings of Comala's death from her weeping maidens. Sorrowing he
orders the bards to chant her praises, and joining with her attendants to
waft her departing soul "to the fathers' dwelling" with farewell hymns.

The cantata is almost equally divided between male and female choruses,
and these are the charm of the work. Many of the songs of Comala and her
maids are in graceful ballad form, fresh in their melody, and marked by
that peculiar refinement which characterizes all of Gade's music. The
parting duet between Fingal and Comala is very beautiful, but the
principal interest centres in the choruses. Those of the bards and
warriors are very stately in their style and abound in dramatic power,
particularly the one accompanying the triumphal return of Fingal. The
chorus of spirits is very impressive, and in some passages almost
supernatural. The female choruses, on the other hand, are graceful,
tender, and pathetic; the final full chorus, in which the bards and
maidens commend the soul of Comala to "the fathers' dwelling," has rarely
been surpassed in beauty or pathos. The music of the cantata is in
keeping with the stately grandeur and richly-hued tones of the Ossianic
poem. The poetry and music of the North are happily wedded.

Spring Fantasie.

Though the "Spring Fantasie" is in undoubted cantata form, Gade
designates it as a "Concertstück;" that is, a musical composition in
which the instrumental parts are essential to its complete unity. Its
origin is unquestionably to be found in the idea of Beethoven's "Choral
Fantasie," which was subsequently developed in the choral symphony on a
still larger and grander scale. The instrumental elements of the "Spring
Fantasie" are unquestionably the most prominent. They do not play the
subordinate part of accompaniment, but really enunciate the ideas of the
poem, which are still further illustrated by the voices, acting as the
interpreters of the meaning of the instrumentation.

The "Fantasie" was written in 1850, its subject being a poem by Edmund
Lobedanz, which of itself might appropriately be called a fantasy. The
work consists of four movements, for four solo voices, orchestra, and
piano-forte. The prominence which Gade has given to the instrumental
parts is shown by his characterizing the movements,--I. _Allegro moderato
e sostenuto_; II. _Allegro molto e con fuoco_; III. _Allegro vivace_. The
poem in the original is one of more than ordinary excellence. The
translation in most common use is one made by Mrs. Vander Weyde for a
performance of the work in London in 1878 at the Royal Normal College and
Academy of Music for the Blind, under the direction of Herr von Bülow.

The first movement is in the nature of an invocation to spring, in which
the longing for May and its flowers is very tenderly expressed. The
second movement depicts with great vigor the return of the wintry storms,
the raging of the torrents, the gradual rolling away of the clouds, the
approach of more genial breezes, and the rising of the star, typifying
"the joy of a fair maiden's love." The closing movement is full of
rejoicing that the spring has come. Voices and instruments share alike in
the jubilation:--

"For the spring-time has come, the May is here,
On hill and in vale all is full of delight.
How sweet is the spring-time, how lovely and bright,--
Its kingdom is over us all."

The Erl King's Daughter.

"The Erl King's Daughter" was written in 1852. Its story differs from
that told in Goethe's famous poem, and set to music equally famous by
Schubert in his familiar song. In Goethe's poem the father rides through
the night clasping his boy and followed by the Erl King and his
daughters, who entice the child unseen by the parent. In vain he assures
him that the Erl King's voice is but the "sad wind sighing through the
withered leaves," that his train is but the mist, and that his daughters
are the aged gray willows deceiving his sight. The boy at first is
charmed with the apparition, but cries in mortal terror as the Erl King
seizes him, while the father gallops at last into the courtyard, only to
find his child dead in his arms.

In the poem used by Gade it is the Erl King's daughter who tempts a
knight to his death. The prologue relates that Sir Oluf at eve stayed his
steed and rested beneath the alders by the brook, where he was visited by
two of the daughters, one of whom caressed him while the other invited
him to join their revels. At sound of the cock-crow, however, they
disappeared. It was the eve of Sir Oluf's wedding day. He arrives home in
a distraught condition, and in spite of his mother's appeals decides to
return to the alder grove in quest of the beauties who had bewitched him.
He finds the alder-maids dancing in the moonlight, singing and beckoning
him to join them. One of the fairest tempts him with a silken gown for
the bride and silver armor for himself. When he refuses to dance with
her, she seizes him by the arm and predicts his death on the morrow
morning. "Ride home to your bride in robe of red," she cries as he
hastens away. In the morning the mother anxiously waits his coming, and
at last beholds him riding desperately through "the waving corn." He has
lost his shield and helmet, and blood drips from his stirrups. As he
draws rein at the door of the castle he drops dead from his saddle. A
brief epilogue points the moral of the story in quaint fashion. It is to
the effect that knights who will on horseback ride should not like Oluf
stay in elfin groves with elfin maidens till morning. It is unnecessary
to specify the numbers in detail; as with the exception of the
melodramatic finale, where the music becomes quite vigorous, it is all of
the same graceful, flowing, melodic character, and needs no key to
explain it to the hearer.

The Crusaders.

"The Crusaders" is one of the most powerful as well as beautiful of
modern cantatas. It was written for performance in Copenhagen in 1866,
and ten years later was produced at the Birmingham Festival, under the
composer's direction. It is divided into three parts, and its story may
be told in a word. Its theme is the same as that which Wagner has treated
in "Lohengrin" and in "Tännhauser,"--the conflict of the human soul with
the powers of darkness, sensual beauty and sorcery, and its final
triumph. It is the story of the temptation of Rinaldo d'Este, the bravest
of the Crusaders, by Armida and her sirens, who at last calls upon the
Queen of Spirits to aid them in their hopeless task, the thwarting of the
powers of evil, and the final triumph before Jerusalem.

The first part opens with a chorus of pilgrims and women in the band of
the Crusaders, expressive of the weariness and sufferings they have
endured in their long wanderings, the end of which still appears so far
away. As the beautiful music dies away, the inspiring summons of Peter
the Hermit is heard, leading up to the Crusaders' song,--a vigorous,
war-like melody, full of manly hope and religious fervor. An evening
prayer of pious longing and exalted devotion closes this part.

The second part is entitled "Armida," and introduces the evil genius of
the scene. A strange, mysterious orchestral prelude indicates the baneful
magic of the sorcerer's wiles. In a remarkably expressive aria, Armida
deplores her weakness in trying to overcome the power of the cross. As
she sees Rinaldo, who has left his tent to wander for a time in the night
air, she calls to the spirits to obey her incantation:--

"Cause a palace grand to rise,
Let a sea before it glimmer.
In the walls of richest gold
Let the purest diamonds shimmer;
Round the fountains' pearly rim,
Where bright the sunbeams are glancing,
Plashing low and murmuring sweet,
Set the merry wavelets dancing.
In yon hedge of roses where fairies rock in softest dreaming,
Fays and elfins bid appear, and sirens float in waters dreaming.
All around let music ring,
Fill the air with sweetest singing;
Lure them on with magic power,
To our midst all captive bringing.
Sing remembrance from their hearts,
Till they bow, my will fulfilling;
Make them every thought forego,
Every wish, save mine own, stilling."

After another invocation of the spirits, the sirens appear, singing a
sensuous melody ("I dip my white Breast in the soft-flowing Tide"). Then
begins the temptation of the wandering Knight. He starts in surprise as
he hears the voices rising from the waves, and again they chant their
alluring song. They are followed by Armida, who appeals to him in a
seductive strain ("O Rinaldo, come to never-ending Bliss"). The Knight
joins with her in a duet of melodious beauty. He is about to yield to the
temptation, when he hears in the distance the tones of the Crusaders'
song. He wavers in his resolution, Armida and the sirens appeal to him
again, and again he turns as if he would follow them. The Crusaders' song
grows louder, and rouses the Knight from the spell which has been cast
about him, and the scene closes with a beautifully concerted number, in
which Rinaldo, Armida, the chorus of Crusaders and of sirens contend for
the mastery. The fascination of the Crusaders' song is the strongest. The
cross triumphs over the sorceress, and in despair she sings,--

"Sink, scenes illusive, deep in dark abyss of doom!
The light of day is turned to blackest night of gloom."

The third part, entitled "Jerusalem," is religious in character, and
mostly choral. In rapid succession follow the morning hymn with beautiful
horn accompaniment, the march of the Pilgrims full of the highest
exaltation, the hermit's revelation of the Holy City to them, their
joyous greeting to it, Rinaldo's resolution to expiate his offence by his
valor, the hermit's last call to strife, their jubilant reply, and the
final victory:--

"As our God wills it. Up, arouse thee!
Up! yon flag with hope endows thee.
Jerusalem! the goal is there.
We cry aloud, 'Hosanna!'"

GILCHRIST.

William W. Gilchrist, the American composer, was born at Jersey City, N.
J., in 1846. He began his studies with H. A. Clarke, professor of music
in the University of Pennsylvania. In 1872 he accepted the position of
organist at the New Jerusalem Church in Cincinnati, Ohio, and was also
appointed teacher in the Conservatory of Miss Bauer. A year later he
returned to Philadelphia, where he has since resided. During this time he
has done a great work for music in that city, having been conductor of
several societies. He has been the recipient of honors on many occasions,
having obtained several prizes from the Philadelphia Art Society and
others for his compositions. In 1880 he contended for the prize offered
by the Cincinnati Musical Festival Association, but stood third on the
list, Dudley Buck being first and George E. Whiting second. In 1882 he
made another trial for the Association's prize, and was successful; the
committee, consisting of Carl Reinecke of Leipsic, M. Saint-Saens of
Paris, and Theodore Thomas of New York, making him the award.

The Forty-sixth Psalm.

The composition referred to in the sketch of Mr. Gilchrist's life which
secured for him the Cincinnati prize in 1882 was "The Forty-sixth Psalm."
The composer's own analysis of the work, furnished at the time, is
appended:--

"The composition is a setting of the Forty-sixth Psalm for soprano
solo, chorus, orchestra, and organ, and has four principal divisions
exclusive of an introduction, each following the other without pause,
and connected by a gradual decrescendo in the orchestra. The opening of
the Psalm seemed to me to indicate a strong outburst of praise or of
thanksgiving for a deliverance from trials, which the introduction is
intended to convey. But instead of beginning with a strong outburst, I
lead up to it from a very subdued beginning, working gradually to a
climax at the entrance of the chorus on the words, 'God is our refuge
and our strength.' The opening movement of the chorus becomes a little
subdued very shortly as it takes up the words, 'A very present help in
trouble,' which is followed again by an _allegro con fuoco_ movement on
the words, 'Therefore we will not fear though the earth be removed,
though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.' This
movement leads into still another, a furioso movement on the words,
'Though the waters thereof roar, though the mountains shake with the
swelling thereof.' This is followed by an elaborate coda, in which all
the themes of the preceding movement are worked together, and which
brings the chorus to a close.

The second division, in E major, is marked by an _andante
contemplativo_ on the words, 'There is a river the streams whereof
shall make glad the city of God.' This movement is intended to be one
of tranquillity, varied with occasional passionate outbursts on the
words, 'God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved.' A peculiar
rhythmical effect is sought by the alternation of 4/4 and 3/4 time,
three bars of the first being answered by two bars of the second. This
movement ends very tranquilly on the words, 'God shall help her, and
that right early,' and is immediately followed by an _allegro molto_,
in B minor, on the words, 'The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved;
he uttered his voice, the earth melted.' In the middle of this chorus
the soprano solo enters for the first time on the words, 'He maketh
wars to cease unto the end of the earth; He breaketh the bow and
cutteth the spear in sunder.' The chorus works up to a strong climax on
the words, 'He burneth the chariot with fire,' which is suddenly
interrupted by a decrescendo on the words, 'Be still, and know that I
am God.'

This leads to the third division, which is a return of the second
division in E major, and which is played through almost entirely by the
orchestra, the chorus merely meditating on the words last quoted. This
leads to the final chorus, which is a fugue, in E major, with _alla
breve_ time, on the words, 'And the Lord of Hosts is with us; the God
of Jacob is our refuge,' towards the close of which a _Gloria Patri_ is
introduced, being woven in with fragments of the fugue to a strong
climax. The whole composition finishes with an impetuous accelerando.
My central idea was to make a choral and orchestral work, the solo,
while requiring a good singer, being only secondary. The Psalm seemed
to me particularly adapted for musical composition, as being capable of
a varied, even dramatic effect."

GLEASON.

Frederick Grant Gleason was born at Middletown, Conn., Dec. 17, 1848. He
inherited the love of music from his parents,--his father having been a
flutist and his mother an alto singer and pianist. In his sixteenth year
he showed a decided talent for composition; and two of his works, an
oratorio, "The Captivity," and a Christmas oratorio, though crudely
written, gave such promise that he was placed under the tuition of Dudley
Buck, with whom he studied the piano and composition. He made such rapid
progress that his parents were induced to send him to Germany, where he
at once entered the Leipsic Conservatory. Moscheles taught him the piano,
and Richter harmony, and he also took private lessons from Plaidy and
Lobe. In 1870 he went to Berlin, where he continued his piano studies
with Raif, a pupil of Tausig, and his tuition in harmony with Weitzmann.
After a visit home he went to England and resumed lessons on the piano
with Berringer, another pupil of Tausig, and also studied English music.
He subsequently made a second visit to Berlin, and improved his time by
studying theory with Weitzmann, the piano with Loeschorn, and the organ
with Haupt. During this visit he also issued a valuable work entitled
"Gleason's Motet Collection." After the completion of his studies he
returned home and accepted the position of organist at one of the
Hartford churches. In 1876 he removed to Chicago and engaged as teacher
in the Hershey School of Musical Art. At present he is still occupied in
teaching and also fills the position of musical critic for the "Tribune"
of that city. During these years his pen has been very busy, as the list
of his compositions shows. Among his principal works are two operas,
still in manuscript,--"Otho Visconti" and "Montezuma;" the cantatas "God
our Deliverer," "The Culprit Fay," and "Praise of Harmony;" and several
trios, sonatas, and other works for the chamber, as well as many songs.
The selections from his operas which have been played by the Thomas
orchestra show that they are compositions of unusual excellence and
scholarship.

The Culprit Fay.

"The Culprit Fay," a musical setting of Joseph Rodman Drake's well-known
fairy poem, was written in 1879. It is divided into three parts,--the
first containing five, the second five, and the third eight numbers; the
solos being divided among soprano, alto, tenor, and barytone, the last
named taking the part of the Fairy King. The exquisitely graceful fairy
story told in the poem is too well known to need description. It is
admirably adapted to music by its rhythmic fluency as well as by the
delicacy of its poetical sentiment; and while it does not call for
earnestness or strength in any of its movements, there is ample
opportunity for melodious and attractive pictures in tone of the dainty
descriptions of the poet. The composer has improved these opportunities
with much skill, and, notwithstanding the intrinsic lightness of the
score, has secured musical unity and poetical coherence by the artistic
use of the _leit-motif_. Nine of these motives are employed,
characterizing the summer night, the elfin mystery, the life of the
fairies, the fay's love for the mortal maid, the penalty for this
violation of fairy law, night on the river, the spells of the water imps,
the penalties imposed upon the culprit, and the Sylphide Queen's passion
for the Fay. The skilfulness with which these motives are adapted to
characters and situations, and interwoven with the general movement in
their proper recurrence, shows that the composer has not studied Wagner,
the master of the _leit-motif_, in vain.

After a short introduction for the horns and strings, the cantata opens
with a full chorus of graceful, flowing character ("'Tis the Middle Watch
of a Summer's Night") describing the moonlight scene about "Old Cro'
Nest." It is followed by the mystery motive announcing a weird alto solo,
"'Tis the Hour of Fairy Ban and Spell." It is the summons of the sentry
elf, ringing the hour of twelve, indicated in the score by the triangle,
and calling the fairies to confront the culprit. A stirring and blithe
instrumental introduction, followed by a short chorus ("They come from
Beds of Lichen green"), describes the gathering of the fays, retarded at
the close, and growing sombre as it is announced that "an ouphe has
broken his vestal vow." A tenor solo ("He has loved an earthly Maid")
tells the sad story of the guilty one who "has lain upon her lip of dew"
and "nestled on her snowy breast." They gather about to hear his doom,
and do not have to wait long; for the tenor song leads without break to a
barytone solo, in recitative form, by the Fairy King ("Fairy, Fairy, list
and mark"), pronouncing the penalties he must pay for his
transgression,--the catching of a drop from the sturgeon's silver bow to
wash away the stain on his wings, and the relighting of his flamewood
lamp by the last faint spark in the train of a shooting star.

A graceful chorus ("Soft and pale is the moony Beam") opens the second
part, picturing the scene upon the strand bordering the elfin land; and
the leaps of the sturgeon, followed by a tenor solo and recitative
describing the sorrow of the lonely sprite and his desperate effort to
push his mussel-shell boat down to the verge of the haunted land. The
alto, which does all the mystery work, goes on with the description of
the vain attempt of the river imps to wreck his frail craft, and his
discovery and pursuit of the sturgeon; then there is a pause. The full
chorus, in a quick movement, pictures the pretty scene of the sturgeon's
leap, the arch of silver sheen, and the puny goblin waiting to catch the
drop. The tenor recitative announces his success, and a full jubilant
chorus of the sprites ("Joy to thee, Fay! thy Task is done") bids him
hasten back to the elfin shore.

The third part opens with a full chorus, very animated in its progression
("Up to the Cope, careering swift"), describing the ride of the Fay past
the sphered moon and up to the bank of the Milky Way, where he checks his
courser to wait for the shooting star. In the next number, a short
recitative, the alto has a more grateful task; this time it is the
graceful sylphs of heaven who appear, weaving their dance about the Fay,
and leading him on to the palace of the Sylphide Queen. It is followed by
two charming soprano solos,--the one descriptive of her beauty as she
listens to the story of the Fay, and the other ("O Sweet Spirit of
Earth") of her sudden passion and the tempting inducements by which she
seeks to make him forget the joys of fairy-land. Once more the tenor, who
plays the part of narrator, enters, and in solo and recitative assures us
how like a brave homunculus the Fay resisted her blandishments. A very
vigorous and descriptive chorus, as fast as can be sung, pictures the Fay
careering along on the wings of the blast up to the northern plain, where
at length a star "bursts in flash and flame." The tenor announces his
second success, and the final chorus ("Ouphe and Goblin! Imp and Sprite")
sings his welcome back in an animated manner, beginning with a moderate
movement which constantly accelerates and works up to a fine climax;
after which--

"The hill-tops glow in morning's spring,
The skylark shakes his dappled wing,
The day glimpse glimmers on the lawn,
The cock has crowed and the fays are gone."

The Praise Song to Harmony.

"The Praise Song to Harmony," written in 1886, is a musical setting of a
poem of the same name by David Ebeling, a German poet who lived in the
latter part of the eighteenth century. The composition is in a strict
sense a symphonic cantata, somewhat in the manner of Mendelssohn's "Hymn
of Praise," being prefaced with a symphonic allegro in the classical form
which is written in a very scholarly manner and displays great skill in
thematic treatment.

The cantata proper opens with a short introduction, consisting of massive
chord foundations for the full orchestra, connected by a figure for the
strings, ushering in a chorus for male voices ("Hail thee, O Harmony,
offspring of Heaven"). The words contain a description of the creation of
worlds and of music, as the song of stars unites with the angel chorus in
praise of the Almighty. At the close of this number begins a choral theme
for trumpets, horns, and trombones, followed by strings and woodwinds,
and introducing a soprano recitative ("With Grace, thy Gaze, O Harmony")
descriptive of the blessing brought into the world by music, followed by
a picture of the misery of the race without its consolation. At the close
the brasses give out a solemn march-like theme. A short chorus ("Joy to
us! Again descending, thou Heavenly One") describes the might of song. A
brief orchestral interlude follows, preparing the entrance of a barytone
solo with chorus ("Blessed Comforter in Grief"). The work closes with a
partial repetition of the opening chorus, with a more elaborate and
brilliant figural accompaniment, in the course of which the march-like
subject is heard again in the brasses. At the end the strings maintain a
tremolo while the rest of the orchestra presents a passage with varied
harmonies. The opening theme of the cantata, though not a repetition,
bears a strong analogy to the introduction of the symphony movement.

HANDEL.

George Frederick Handel was born at Halle, in Lower Saxony, Feb. 23,
1685, and like many another composer revealed his musical promise at a
very early age, only to encounter parental opposition. His father
intended him to be a lawyer; but Nature had her way, and in spite of
domestic antagonism triumphed. The Duke of Saxe-Weissenfels recognized
his ability and overcame the father's determination. Handel began his
studies with Zachau, organist of the Halle cathedral. After the death of
his father, in 1697, he went to Hamburg, and for a time played in the
orchestra of the German opera. It was during his residence in that city
that he wrote his first opera, "Almira" (1705). In the following year he
went to Italy, where he remained several months under the patronage of
the Grand Duke of Florence. During the next two years he visited Venice,
Rome, and Naples, and wrote several operas and minor oratorios. In 1709
he returned to Germany, and the Elector of Hanover, subsequently George
I. of England, offered him the position of capellmeister, which he
accepted upon the condition that he might visit England, having received
many invitations from that country. The next year he arrived in London
and brought out his opera of "Rinaldo," which proved a great success. At
the end of six months he was obliged to return to his position in
Hanover; but the English success made him impatient of the dulness of the
court. In 1712 he was in London again, little dreaming that the Elector
would soon follow him as king. Incensed with him for leaving Hanover, the
King at first refused to receive him; but some music which Handel
composed for an aquatic fête in his honor brought about the royal
reconciliation. In 1718 he accepted the position of chapel-master to the
Duke of Chandos, for whom he wrote the famous Chandos Te Deum and
Anthems, the serenata "Acis and Galatea," and "Esther," his first English
oratorio. In 1720 he was engaged as director of Italian opera by the
society of noblemen known as the Royal Academy of Music, and from that
time until 1740 his career was entirely of an operatic character. Opera
after opera came from his pen. Some were successful, others failed. At
first composer, then director, he finally became _impresario_, only to
find himself confronted with bitter rivalry, especially at the hands of
Bononcini and Porpora. Cabals were instituted against him. Unable to
contend with them alone, he formed a partnership with Heidegger,
proprietor of the King's Theatre, in 1729. It was broken in 1734, and he
took the management of Covent Garden. The Italian conspiracies against
him broke out afresh. He failed in his undertaking and became a bankrupt.
Slanders of all sorts were circulated, and his works were no longer well
received. In the midst of his adversity sickness overtook him, ending
with a partial stroke of paralysis. When sufficiently recovered he went
to the Continent, where he remained for a few months. On his return to
London he brought out some new works, but they were not favorably
received. A few friends who had remained faithful to him persuaded him to
give a benefit concert, which was a great success. It inspired him with
fresh courage; but he did not again return to the operatic world.
Thenceforward he devoted himself to oratorio, in which he made his name
famous for all time. He himself said: "Sacred music is best suited to a
man descending in the vale of years." "Saul" and the colossal "Israel in
Egypt," written in 1740, head the list of his wonderful oratorios. In
1741 he was invited to visit Ireland. He went there in November, and many
of his works were produced during the winter and received with great
enthusiasm. In April, 1742, his immortal "Messiah" was brought out at
Dublin. It was followed by "Samson," "Joseph," "Semele," "Belshazzar,"
and "Hercules," which were also successful; but even in the midst of his
oratorio work his rivals did not cease their conspiracies against him,
and in 1744 he was once more a bankrupt. For over a year his pen was
idle. In 1746 the "Occasional Oratorio" and "Judas Maccabæus" appeared,
and these were speedily followed by "Joshua," "Solomon," "Susanna,"
"Theodora," and "Jephthah." It was during the composition of the
last-named work that he was attacked with the illness which finally
proved fatal. He died April 14, 1759, and was buried in Westminster
Abbey. During the last few days of his life he was heard to express the
wish that "he might breathe his last on Good Friday, in hopes of meeting
his good God, his sweet Lord and Saviour, on the day of His
resurrection." The wish was granted him; for it was on Good Friday that
he passed away, leaving behind him a name and fame that will be cherished
so long as music retains its power over the human heart.

Acis and Galatea.

The first idea of Handel's famous pastoral, "Acis and Galatea," is to be
found in a serenata, "Aci, Galatea, e Polifemo," which he produced at
Naples in July, 1708. The plan of the work resembles that of the later
pastoral, though its musical setting is entirely different.[21] Little
was known of it however until nearly a quarter of a century afterwards,
when the composer revived portions of it in one of his London concerts,
as will shortly be seen.

In 1718 Handel entered the service of James, Duke of Chandos, as
chapel-master, succeeding Dr. Pepusch. His patron had accumulated an
immense fortune and spent it in a princely manner. He had built a marble
palace, at an enormous expense, at Cannons in Middlesex, where he lived
in almost regal state. It was the chapel attached to this mansion over
which Handel was called to preside, and there were ready for his use a
large choir, a band of instrumental performers, and a fine organ. The
anthems and services of his predecessor were laid aside, and that year
Handel's busy pen supplied two new settings of the Te Deum and the twelve
Chandos Anthems, which are really cantatas in form. His first English
opera, "Esther," was also composed at Cannons, and was followed by the
beautiful pastoral which forms the subject of this sketch. "Esther" was
first performed Aug. 20, 1720, and it is generally agreed that "Acis and
Galatea" followed it in the same year, though Schoelcher in his biography
assigns 1721 as the date. Nine characters are contained in the original
manuscript,--Galatea, Clori, and Eurilla, sopranos; Acis, Filli, Dorinda,
and Damon, altos; Silvio, tenor; and Polifemo, bass.

After this private performance the pastoral was not again heard from
until 1731-32, when it was given under peculiar circumstances. On the
13th of March, 1731, it was performed for the benefit of one Rochetti,
who took the rôle of Acis; but with this representation Handel had
nothing to do. The act of piracy was repeated in the following year, when
Mr. Arne, father of Dr. Arne the composer, and the lessee of the Little
Theatre in the Haymarket, announced its performance as follows:--

"At the new theatre in the Haymarket, on Thursday next, 11th May, will
be performed in English a pastoral opera called 'Acis and Galatea,'
with all the choruses, scenes, machines, and other decorations, etc.
(as before), being the first time it was ever performed in a theatrical
way. The part of Acis by Mr. Mourtier, being the first time of his
appearance in character on any stage; Galatea, Miss Arne.[22] Pit and
boxes, 5_s._"

Handel had taken no notice of the 1731 performance; but this
representation, given at a theatre directly opposite the one of which he
was manager, roused his resentment, though piracy of this kind was very
common in those days. He determined to outdo the manager "over the way."
On the 5th of June he announced in the "Daily Journal":--

"In the King's Theatre in the Haymarket, the present Saturday, being
the 10th of June, will be performed a serenata called 'Acis and
Galatea,' formerly composed by Mr. Handel, and now revised by him, with
several additions, and to be performed by a great number of the best
voices and instruments. There will be no action on the stage,[23] but
the scene will represent in a picturesque manner a rural prospect, with
rocks, groves, fountains, and grottos, among which will be disposed a
chorus of nymphs and shepherds; the habits, and every other decoration,
suited to the subject. Also on the 13th, 17th, 20th. The libretto
printed for J. Watts, in three acts."

The rival establishment had produced the work as it was originally given
at Cannons; but as intimated in his advertisement, Handel made additions,
interpolating a number of airs and choruses from the serenata which he
had composed at Naples, thus requiring the work to be sung both in
Italian and English,--a polyglot practice from which our own times are
not exempt. The part of Acis was sung by Senesino, a male soprano;
Galatea by Signora Strada; and Polyphemus by Montagnana. The other
parts--Clori and Eurilla sopranos, Filli and Dorinda contraltos, and
Silvio tenor--were also represented. It was performed eight times in
1732, and was brought out in the same form at Oxford in 1733; but in 1739
Handel restored it to its original shape as it had been given at Cannons.
It is now generally performed in two parts with the three characters
Galatea, Acis, and Polyphemus, and choruses of nymphs and shepherds.

The pretty pastoral will always possess more than ordinary interest, as
four celebrated poets are represented in the construction of the poem.
Gay wrote the most of it. It also contains a strophe by Hughes, a verse
by Pope,[24] and an extract from Dryden's translation of the Galatea myth
in the Metamorphoses of Ovid.[25] The story is based on the seventh fable
in the thirteenth book of the Metamorphoses,--the sad story which
Galatea, daughter of Nereus, tells to Scylla. The nymph was passionately
in love with the shepherd Acis, son of Faunus and of the nymph Symoethis,
and pursued him incessantly. She too was pursued by Polyphemus, the
one-eyed Cyclops of Ætna, contemner of the gods. One day, reclining upon
the breast of Acis, concealed behind a rock, she hears the giant pouring
out to the woods and mountains his story of love and despair: "I, who
despise Jove and the heavens and the piercing lightnings, dread thee,
daughter of Nereus; than the lightnings is thy wrath more dreadful to me.
But I should be more patient under these slights if thou didst avoid all
men. For why, rejecting the Cyclop, dost thou love Acis? And why prefer
Acis to my embraces?" As he utters these last complaints, he espies the
lovers. Then, raging and roaring so that the mountains shook and the sea
trembled, he hurled a huge rock at Acis and crushed him. The shepherd's
blood gushing forth from beneath the rock was changed into a river; and
Galatea, who had fled to the sea, was consoled.

The overture to the work, consisting of one movement, is thoroughly
pastoral in its style and marked by all that grace and delicacy which
characterize the composer's treatment of movements of this kind. It
introduces a chorus ("O the Pleasures of the Plains!") in which the easy,
careless life of the shepherds and their swains is pictured. Galatea
enters seeking her lover, and after the recitative, "Ye verdant Plains
and woody Mountains," relieves her heart with an outburst of melodious
beauty:--

"Hush, ye pretty warbling choir!
Your thrilling strains
Awake my pains
And kindle fierce desire.
Cease your song and take your flight;
Bring back my Acis to my sight."

Acis answers her, after a short recitative, with another aria equally
graceful ("Love in her Eyes sits playing and sheds delicious Death"). The
melodious and sensuous dialogue is continued by Galatea, who once more
sings:--

"As when the dove
Laments her love
All on the naked spray;
When he returns
No more she mourns,
But loves the live-long day.
Billing, cooing,
Panting, wooing,
Melting murmurs fill the grove,
Melting murmurs, lasting love."--

Then in a duet, sparkling with the happiness of the lovers ("Happy We"),
closing with chorus to the same words, this pretty picture of ancient
pastoral life among the nymphs and shepherds comes to an end.

In the second part there is another tone both to scene and music. The
opening chorus of alarm ("Wretched Lovers") portends the coming of the
love-sick Cyclops; the mountains bow, the forests shake, the waves run
frightened to the shore as he approaches roaring and calling for "a
hundred reeds of decent growth," that on "such pipe" his capacious mouth
may play the praises of Galatea. The recitative, "I melt, I rage, I
burn," is very characteristic, and leads to the giant's love-song, an
unctuous, catching melody almost too full of humor and grace for the
fierce brute of Ætna:--

"O ruddier than the cherry!
O sweeter than the berry!
O nymph more bright
Than moonshine night,
Like kidlings, blithe and merry.

"Ripe as the melting cluster,
No lily has such lustre.
Yet hard to tame
As raging flame,
And fierce as storms that bluster."

In marked contrast with this declaration follows the plaintive tender
song of Acis ("Love sounds the Alarm"). Galatea appeals to him to trust
the gods, and then the three join in a trio ("The Flocks shall leave the
Mountain"). Enraged at his discomfiture, the giant puts forth his power.
He is no longer the lover piping to Galatea and dissembling his real
nature, but a destructive raging force; and the fragment of mountain
which he tears away buries poor Acis as effectually as Ætna sometimes
does the plains beneath. The catastrophe accomplished, the work closes
with the sad lament of Galatea for her lover ("Must I my Acis still
bemoan?") and the choral consolations of the shepherds and their
swains:--

"Galatea, dry thy tears,
Acis now a god appears;
See how he rears him from his bed!
See the wreath that binds his head!
Hail! thou gentle murmuring stream;
Shepherds' pleasure, Muses' theme;
Through the plains still joy to rove,
Murmuring still thy gentle love."

[21] The superior attractions of the English serenata will probably
prevent the earlier work from ever becoming a popular favorite; more
especially since the rôle of Polifemo needs a bass singer with a
voice of the extraordinary compass of two octaves and a
half.--_Rockstro's Life of Handel_.

[22] Miss Arne, afterwards Mrs. Cibber, enjoyed, under the latter name, a
great reputation as a singer. Her husband was Theophilus Cibber, the
brother of Colley Cibber, a poet laureate in the reign of George
II.--_Schoelcher's Life of Handel_.

[23] This undoubtedly is the manner in which this charming little piece
ought to be performed. It is a dramatic poem, but not an acting play,
and the incidents are such as cannot be represented on the stage. A
few years ago another attempt was made to perform it as an opera, but
without success. Polyphemus is entirely an ideal character, and any
attempt to personate him must be ridiculous; and the concluding
scene, in which the giant throws a huge rock at the head of his
rival, produced shouts of merriment. "Acis and Galatea" is performed
in an orchestra in the manner in which oratorios are performed; but
its effect would certainly be heightened by the picturesque scenery
and decorations employed by Handel himself.--_Hogarth's Musical
Drama_.

[24]
"Not showers to larks so pleasing,
Not sunshine to the bee,
Not sleep to toil so easing,
As these dear smiles to me."

[25]
"Help! Galatea! Help, ye parent gods!
And take me dying to your deep abodes."

Alexander's Feast.

Handel composed the music for Dryden's immortal ode in 1736. In the
original score the close of the first part is dated January 5, and the
end of the work January 17, showing rapid composition. Three years before
this time he had had a violent quarrel with Senesino, his principal
singer at the opera-house in the Haymarket, which led to his abandonment
of the theatre and its occupancy by his rival, Porpora. After an
unsuccessful attempt to compete with the latter, which nearly bankrupted
him in health and purse, he decided to quit opera altogether. He sought
relief for his physical ailments at Aix-la-Chapelle, and upon his return
to London in October, 1735, publicly announced that "Mr. Handel will
perform Oratorios and have Concerts of Musick this Winter at Covent
Garden Theatre." One of the first works for these concerts was
"Alexander's Feast," completed, as stated above, Jan. 17, 1736. The poem
was prepared by Newburgh Hamilton, who says in his preface:--

"I determined not to take any unwarrantable liberty with the poem,
which has long done honor to the nation, and which no man can add to or
abridge in anything material without injuring it. I therefore confined
myself to a plain division of it into airs, recitatives or choruses,
looking upon the words in general so sacred as scarcely to violate one
in the order of its first place. How I have succeeded the world is to
judge, and whether I have preserved that beautiful description of the
passions, so exquisitely drawn, at the same time I strove to reduce
them to the present taste in sounds. I confess my principal view was,
not to lose this favorable opportunity of its being set to music by
that great master who has with pleasure undertaken the task, and who
only is capable of doing it justice; whose compositions have long shown
that they can conquer even the most obstinate partiality, and inspire
life into the most senseless words. If this entertainment can in the
least degree give satisfaction to the real judges of poetry or music, I
shall think myself happy in having promoted it; being persuaded that it
is next to an improbability to offer the world anything in those arts
more perfect than the united labors and utmost efforts of a Dryden and
a Handel."

In addition to the preface Hamilton appended a poem "To Mr. Handel on his
setting to Musick Mr. Dryden's Feast of Alexander," in which he
enthusiastically sings:--

"Two glowing sparks of that celestial flame
Which warms by mystick art this earthly frame,
United in one blaze of genial heat,
Produced this piece in sense and sounds complete.
The Sister Arts, as breathing from one soul,
With equal spirit animate the whole.
Had Dryden lived the welcome day to bless,
Which clothed his numbers in so fit a dress,
When his majestick poetry was crowned
With all your bright magnificence of sound,
How would his wonder and his transport rise,
Whilst famed Timotheus yields to you the prize!"

The work was first performed at Covent Garden Theatre, February 19, about
a month after it was written; the principal singers being Signora Strada,
Miss Young,[26] John Beard, and Mr. Erard. It met with remarkable
success. The London "Daily Post," on the morning after its production,
said:--

"Never was upon the like Occasion so numerous and splendid an Audience
at any Theatre in London, there being at least 1,300 Persons present;
and it is judged that the Receipt of the House could not amount to less
than £450."

It was repeated four times, and then withdrawn to make room for "Acis and
Galatea" and the oratorio of "Esther." In March, 1737, it was revived,
with two additional choruses made by Hamilton for the work; and upon the
same occasion an Italian cantata in praise of Saint Cecilia was sung.

It is unnecessary to inform the reader of the nature of a poem familiar
the world over. The overture is written for strings and two oboes.
Throughout the work the orchestration is thin, bassoons and horns being
the only instruments added to those named above; but in 1790 Mozart
amplified the accompaniments,--an improvement which he also made for the
score of "Acis and Galatea." The great solos of the composition are the
furious aria, "'Revenge, Revenge!' Timotheus cries," and the descriptive
recitative, "Give the Vengeance due to the valiant Crew," in which Handel
employs his imitative powers with consummate effect. Clouet, in his
"Chants Classiques," says of the passage "And the king seized a flambeau
with zeal to destroy:--

"He paints Alexander issuing forth in the midst of an orgie, arming
himself with a torch, and followed by his generals, running to set fire
to Persepolis. While the accompaniment sparkles with the confused and
unequal glare of the torches, the song expresses truthfully the
precipitation and the tumult of the crowd, the rolling of the flames,
and the living splendor of a conflagration."

The choruses of the work are equally strong, and some of them are among
the best Handel ever wrote, particularly, "He sang Darius great and
good," "Break his Bands of Sleep asunder," "Let old Timotheus yield the
Prize," and "The many rend the Skies with loud Applause." They are as
genuine inspirations as the best choruses of the "Messiah" or of "Israel
in Egypt."

In 1739 Handel also set to music Dryden's shorter "Ode for St. Cecilia's
Day," beginning,

"From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony
This universal frame began,"

the music for which had been originally composed in 1687 by Giovanni
Baptista Draghi, an Italian, who was music-master to Queen Anne and Queen
Mary, and at that time was organist to Catharine of Braganza, widow of
Charles II. Handel's setting was first performed on the anniversary of
the saint's festival, Nov. 22, 1739. The programme announced:

"Lincoln's Inn Fields. At the Theatre Royal in Lincoln's Inn Fields,
Thursday next, November 22 (being St. Cecilia's Day), will be performed
an Ode of Mr. Dryden's, with two new Concertos for several instruments,
which will be preceded by Alexander's Feast and a Concerto on the
organ."

Though one of the shortest of his vocal works, it contains some
magnificent choruses.

[26] Cecilia, a pupil of Geminiani, and afterwards wife of Dr. Arne.

L'Allegro.

"L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato," the first two movements of
which contain a musical setting of Milton's well-known poem, was written
in the seventeen days from Jan. 19 to Feb. 6, 1740, and was first
performed on the 27th of the latter month at the Royal Theatre, Lincoln's
Inn Fields, London. Upon this occasion the first and second parts were
preceded, according to the handbook, by "a new concerto for several
instruments," and the third by "a new concerto on the organ," which was
played by the composer himself. It was performed again Jan. 31, 1741,
with the addition of ten new numbers to the music, which in the original
manuscript appear at the end, marked by Handel, "l'Additione." At a still
later period Handel omitted the third part ("Moderato") entirely, and
substituted for it Dryden's "Ode on St. Cecilia's Day," which he composed
in 1739.

The text of the first two parts is by Milton, Allegro, as is well known,
chanting the praises of pleasure, Penseroso those of melancholy; Allegro
represented by tenor and Penseroso by soprano, and each supported by a
chorus which joins in the discussion of the two moods. There is a radical
difference between the poem as Milton wrote it and as it appears set to
Handel's music. Milton presented two distinct poems, though allied by
antithesis, and Penseroso does not speak until Allegro has finished. In
the poem as adapted for music they alternate in sixteen strophes and
antistrophes. The adaptation of these two parts was made by Charles
Jennens, who was a frequent collaborator with Handel.[27] He also
suggested the addition of a third part, the Moderato, and wrote the
words, in which he counsels both Allegro and Penseroso to take the middle
course of moderation as the safest. The wisdom of the poet in suggesting
the _via media_ is more to be commended than his boldness in
supplementing Milton's stately verse with commonplaces, however wise they
may have been. Chrysander, the German biographer of Handel presents a
philosophical view of the case. He says:

"In the two pictures a deeply thoughtful mind has fixed for itself two
far-reaching goals. With these the poem has reached its perfect end,
and in the sense of its inventor there is nothing further to be added.
The only possible, the only natural outlet was that into a _life of
action_, according to the direction which the spirit now should take;
already it was the first step into this new domain which called forth
the divided feeling. The two moods do not run together into any third
mood as their point of union, but into active real life, as different
characters, forever separate. Therefore 'Moderation' could not bring
about the reconciliation; only life could do it; not contemplation, but
deeds. Gladness and Melancholy are symptoms of a vigorous soul;
moderation would be mediocrity. And herein lies the unpoetic nature of
the addition by Jennens; read according to Milton, the concluding moral
of a rich English land-owner whose inherited abundance points to
nothing but a golden mean, and whose only real problem is to keep the
balance in the lazy course of an inactive life, makes a disheartening
impression."

The work as a whole is one of Handel's finest inspirations. The Allegro
is bright and spirited throughout; the Penseroso grave and tender; and
the Moderato quiet and respectable, as might be expected of a person who
never experiences the enthusiasms of joy or the comforts of melancholy.
The most of the composition is assigned to solo voices which carry on the
discussion, though in the Moderato it is mainly the chorus which urges
the sedate compromise between the two.

The work opens without overture, its place having originally been
supplied by an orchestral concerto. In vigorous and very dramatic
recitative Allegro bids "loathed Melancholy" hence, followed by
Penseroso, who in a few bars of recitative far less vigorously consigns
"vain, deluding joys" to "some idle brain;" Allegro replies with the
first aria ("Come, come, thou Goddess fair"), a beautifully free and
flowing melody, responded to by Penseroso, who in an aria of stately
rhythm appeals to his goddess, "Divinest Melancholy." Now Allegro summons
his retinue of mirth:--

"Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful jollity,
Quips and cranks and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks and wreathèd smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek,
Sport, that wrinkled care derides,
And Laughter, holding both his sides;"

and the chorus takes up the jovial refrain in the same temper. The aria
itself is well known as the laughing song. Indeed, both aria and chorus
are full of unrestrained mirth, and go laughingly along in genuine
musical giggles.[28] The effect is still further enhanced by the next
aria for Allegro ("Come and trip it as you go"), a graceful minuet, which
is also taken by the chorus. After a recitative by Penseroso ("Come,
pensive Nun"), and the aria, "Come, but keep thy wonted State" the first
Penseroso chorus occurs ("Join with thee calm Peace and Quiet"), a short
but beautiful passage of tranquil harmony. Once more in recitative
Allegro bids "loathed Melancholy" hence, and then in the aria, "Mirth,
admit me of thy Crew," leading into a chorus, sings of the lark,
"startling dull Night" and bidding good-morrow at his window,--a
brilliant number accompanied with an imitation of the lark's song.
Penseroso replies with an equally brilliant song ("Sweet Bird, that
shuns't the Noise of Folly"), in which the nightingale plays the part of
accompaniment. Another aria by Allegro ("Mirth, admit me of thy Crew")
gives an opportunity for a blithe and jocund hunting-song for the bass,
followed by one of the most beautiful numbers in the work ("Oft on a Plat
of rising Ground") sung by Penseroso, in which the ringing of the far-off
curfew, "swinging slow, with sullen roar," is introduced with telling
effect. This is followed by a quiet meditative aria ("Far from all
Resorts of Mirth"), when once again Allegro takes up the strain in the
two arias, "Let me wander not unseen," and "Straight mine Eye hath caught
new Pleasures." The first part closes with the Allegro aria and chorus
("Or let the merry Bells ring round"), full of the very spirit of joy and
youth; and ending with an exquisite harmonic effect as the gay crowd
creep to bed, "by whispering winds soon lulled to sleep."

The second part begins with a stately recitative and aria by Penseroso
("Sometimes let gorgeous Tragedy"), followed by one of the most
characteristic arias in the work ("But O, sad Virgin, that thy Power
might raise!") in which the passage,

"Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as warbled to the string
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,"

is accompanied by long persistent trills that admirably suit the words.
The next number ("Populous Cities please me then") is a very descriptive
solo for Allegro, with chorus which begins in canon form for the voices
and then turns to a lively movement as it pictures the knights
celebrating their triumphs and the "store of ladies" awarding prizes to
their gallants. Again Allegro in a graceful aria sings, "There let Hymen
oft appear." It is followed by a charming canzonet ("Hide me from Day's
garish Eye") for Penseroso, which leads to an aria for Allegro ("I'll to
the well-trod Stage anon"), opening in genuinely theatrical style, and
then changing to a delightfully melodious warble at the words,--

"Or sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild."

This is followed by three characteristic arias, "And ever, against eating
Cares," "Orpheus himself may heave his Head," and "These Delights, if
thou canst give,"--the last with chorus. Penseroso has a short chorus in
plain but stately harmony ("There let the pealing Organ blow"), with
pauses for the organ _ad libitum_, followed by the aria, "May at last my
weary Age," and the majestic devotional fugued chorus, "These Pleasures,
Melancholy, give!" which close the second part.

The third part, "Il Moderato," is rarely given, and the work may well
close with the fugue that so beautifully and harmoniously ends the second
part. It opens with an aria in which Moderato tenders the sage advice:--

"Come, with native lustre shine,
Moderation, grace divine,
Whom the wise God of nature gave,
Mad mortals from themselves to save.
Keep as of old the middle way,
Nor deeply sad nor idly gay;
But still the same in look and gait,
Easy, cheerful, and sedate,
Keep as of old the middle way."

With such didactic commonplaces as the above, Moderato commends
temperance, health, contentment, frugality, equanimity, and chaste love,
and bids them,--

"Come, with gentle hand restrain
Those who fondly court their bane;
One extreme with caution shunning,
To another blindly running.
Kindly teach how blest are they
Who nature's equal rules obey,
Who safely steer two rocks between,
And prudent keep the golden mean."

Thus Mr. Jennens's mild philosophy goes on, one of his verses, "As steals
the Morn upon the Night," set to a brilliant tenor and soprano duet,
followed by the closing chorus, "Thy Pleasures, Moderation, give," in
full, broad, rich harmony. There needs no other proof of Handel's genius,
than that he could link such Tupperisms to his grand measures.

[27] Jennens was an amateur poet of the period, descended from a
manufacturing family of Birmingham, from whom he inherited a large
fortune. He lived on terms of close intimacy with Handel, and was
mentioned in his will. He died Nov. 20, 1773.

[28] I was lucky enough to meet with the approbation of Mr. Bates in the
recitative of "Deeper and deeper still;" my next song was the
laughing one. Mr. Harrison, my predecessor at those concerts, was a
charming singer: his singing "Oft on a plat of rising ground," his
"Lord, remember David," and "O come let us worship and fall down,"
breathed pure religion. No divine from the pulpit, though gifted with
the greatest eloquence, could have inspired his auditors with a more
perfect sense of duty to their Maker than Harrison did by his
melodious tones and chaste style; indeed, it was faultless: but in
the animated songs of Handel he was very deficient. I heard him sing
the laughing song without moving a muscle, and determined, though it
was a great risk, to sing it my own way, and the effect produced
justified the experiment; instead of singing it with the serious
tameness of Harrison, I laughed all through it, as I conceived it
ought to be sung, and as must have been the intention of the
composer. The infection ran; and their Majesties, and the whole
audience, as well as the orchestra, were in a roar of laughter, and a
signal was given from the royal box to repeat it, and I sang it again
with increased effect.--_Michael Kelly's Reminiscences_, 1789.

HATTON.

John Liphot Hatton, a composer well known in America, not only by his
songs and other works, but also by his visits here, was born in Liverpool
in 1809. Though his early musical education was very scanty, he soon
became known as a composer after his removal to London in 1832, and his
works met with a very cordial reception. In 1842 he became conductor at
Drury Lane Theatre, and while acting in that capacity brought out one of
his operettas, called "The Queen of the Thames." In 1844 he went to
Vienna and produced his opera "Pascal Bruno." Shortly afterwards he
issued several songs under the _nom de plume_ of "Czapek," which secured
for themselves widespread popularity. In 1848 he came to this country,
and some years later made a concert-tour here. Upon his return to England
he assumed direction of the music at the Princess' Theatre, and while
engaged there wrote incidental music for "Macbeth," "Sardanapalus,"
"Faust and Marguerite," "King Henry VIII.," "Pizarro," "King Richard
II.," "King Lear," "The Merchant of Venice," and "Much Ado About
Nothing." In 1856 he wrote "Robin Hood," a cantata; in 1864 the opera
"Rose, or Love's Ransom," for Covent Garden; and in 1877 "Hezekiah," a
sacred drama, which was performed at the Crystal Palace. He has also
written a large number of part songs, which are great favorites with
quartet clubs, and nearly two hundred songs which are very popular; among
them, "Good-by, Sweetheart, good-by," which has been a stock piece with
concert tenors for years, and which the late Signor Brignoli used to sing
with excellent effect. His music is specially characterized by grace and
melodiousness. Hatton died in 1886.

Robin Hood.

The pastoral cantata of "Robin Hood" was written for the Bradford
(England) Triennial Festival of 1856, Sims Reeves creating the part of
the hero. Its name suggests the well-known story of the greenwood outlaw
which has been charmingly versified by George Linley in the libretto. The
personages are Maid Marian, Robin Hood, Little John, and "The Bishop."
Maid Marian, it will be remembered, was the mistress who followed Robin
into the Sherwood Forest and shared his wild life; and Little John was
his stalwart lieutenant, whose name was transposed after he joined the
band, thus heightening the incongruity between his name and his great
size. The incident contained in Linley's poem appears to have been
suggested by Robin Hood's penchant for capturing bishops and other
ecclesiastics, notwithstanding his religious professions, which were
exemplified by the retention of Friar Tuck as chaplain in the bold
archer's household; or it may be based upon the historical story of the
expedition which Edward II. and some of his retainers, disguised as
monks, made into the forest for the purpose of exterminating the outlaws
and thus stopping their slaughter of the royal deer. As the old story
goes, they were led into an ambuscade by a forester who had agreed to
conduct them to the haunts of Robin, and were captured. When Robin
recognized the King in the disguise of the abbot, he craved forgiveness
for himself and his band, which was granted upon condition that he should
accompany his sovereign to Court and take a place in the royal household.
The old collection of ballads, "The Lytell Geste of Robyn Hood," tells
the same story and continues it, relating how after "dwelling in the
Kynge's courte" a year, he tired of it and obtained permission to make a
visit to the woods again, but forfeited his word and never returned,
dying at last in Kirklees priory, through the treachery of the abbess,
and how in his last moments he blew a loud blast on his horn, summoning
Little John from the forest, to whom, after he had forced his way into
his chamber, the dying Robin said:

"Give me my bent bow in my hand,
And an arrow I'll let free,
And where that arrow is taken up,
There let my grave digged be."

The cantata opens with a chorus of the outlaws, who vigorously assert
their independence of tribute, laws, and monarchs, followed by a
bombastic bass aria by the Bishop, who threatens them for destroying the
King's deer. His grandiloquence is speedily interrupted by the outlaws,
with Robin at their head, who surround him without further ado and make
him the butt of their sport. Robin Hood sings a charmingly melodious
ballad, "Under the Greenwood Tree," in which the Bishop is invited to
become one of their number and share their sylvan enjoyments. A trio and
chorus follow, in the course of which the Bishop parts with his personal
possessions in favor of the gentlemen around him in Lincoln green with
"bent bows." A chorus ("Strike the Harp") also informs us that the
ecclesiastic is forced to dance for the genial band much against his will
as well as his dignity. Robin's sentimentalizing about the pleasures
under the greenwood tree is still further emphasized by a madrigal for
female voices, supposed to be sung by the forest maidens, though their
identity is not very clear, as Marian was the only maid that accompanied
the band. After the plundering scene, the cantata grows more passionate
in character, describing a pretty and tender love-scene between Robin and
Marian, which is somewhat incongruous, whether Marian be considered as
the outlaw's mistress, or, as some of the old chroniclers have it, his
wife Matilda, who changed her name when she followed him into the forest.
From the musical standpoint, however, it affords an opportunity for
another graceful ballad of sentiment, in which Marian describes her heart
as "a frail bark upon the waters of love;" a duet in which the lovers
passionately declare their love for each other as well as their delight
with the forest; and a final chorus of the band, jubilantly proclaiming
their hatred of kings and courtiers, and their loyalty to Robin Hood and
Maid Marian. It may be worthy of note in this connection that Bishop, the
English composer, wrote a legendary opera called "Maid Marian, or the
Huntress of Arlingford," in which the heroine is Matilda.

HAYDN.

Joseph Haydn, the creator of the symphony and the string quartet, was
born at Rohrau, a little Austrian village on the river Leitha, March 31,
1732. His father was a wheelwright and his mother a cook, in service with
Count Harrach. Both the parents were fond of music, and both sang, the
father accompanying himself upon the harp, which he played by ear. The
child displayed a voice so beautiful that in his sixth year he was
allowed to study music, and was also given a place in the village
church-choir. Reutter, the capellmeister of St. Stephen's, Vienna, having
heard him, was so impressed with the beauty of his voice that he offered
him a position as chorister. Haydn eagerly accepted it, as it gave him an
opportunity for study. While in the service of St. Stephen's he had
lessons on the violin and piano, as well as in composition. When his
voice broke, and his singing was of no further value, he was thrown upon
the tender mercies of the world. Fortune favored him, however. He
obtained a few pupils, and gave himself to composition. He made the
acquaintance of Metastasio, Porpora, and Gluck. His trios began to
attract attention, and he soon found himself rising into prominence. In
1759, through the influence of a wealthy friend and amateur, he was
appointed to the post of musical director and composer in the service of
Count Morzin, and about this time wrote his first symphony. When the
Count dismissed his band, Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy received him as his
second capellmeister, under Werner. When the latter died, in 1766, Haydn
took his place as sole director. His patron meanwhile had died, and was
succeeded by his son Nicolaus, between whom and Haydn there was the
utmost good feeling. Up to this time Haydn had written thirty symphonies,
a large number of trios, quartets, and several vocal pieces. His
connection with the Prince lasted until 1790, and was only terminated by
the latter's death. During this period of twenty-eight years his musical
activity was unceasing; and as he had an orchestra of his own, and his
patron was ardently devoted to music, the incentive to composition was
never lacking. Anton succeeded Nicolaus, and was generous enough to
increase Haydn's pension; but he dismissed the entire chapel, and the
composer took up his abode in Vienna. He was hardly established before he
received a flattering proposition from Salomon, the manager, to go to
England. He had already had many pressing invitations from others, but
could not accept them, owing to his engagement to Esterhazy. Now that he
was free, he decided to make the journey. On New Year's Day, 1791, he
arrived in London. Success greeted him at once. He became universally
popular. Musicians and musical societies paid him devoted attention. He
gave a series of symphony concerts which aroused the greatest enthusiasm.
He was treated with distinguished courtesy by the royal family. Oxford
gave him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music. The nobility entertained
him sumptuously. After a year of continuous fêtes he returned to Germany,
where he remained two years, during a portion of which time Beethoven was
his pupil. In 1794 he made his second journey to England, where his
former successes were repeated, and fresh honors were showered upon him.
In 1804 he was notified by Prince Esterhazy that he was about to
reorganize his chapel, and wished him for its conductor again. Haydn
accordingly returned to his old position, where he remained during the
rest of his life. He was already an old man, but it was during this
period that his most remarkable works were produced, among them the
Austrian National Hymn ("Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser"), the "Seven
Words," the "Creation," the "Seasons," and many of his best trios and
quartets. He died May 31, 1809, a few days after the occupation of Vienna
by the French, and among the mourners at his funeral were many French
officers. Funeral services were held in all the principal European
cities. Honored and respected all over Europe, he was most deeply loved
by his own countrymen, who still affectionately speak of him as "Papa"
Haydn.

The Seven Words.

"The Seven Words of Jesus on the Cross," sometimes called "The Passion,"
was written by Haydn in 1785, for the cathedral of Cadiz, upon a
commission from the chapter for appropriate music for Good Friday. It was
at first composed as an instrumental work, consisting of seven adagio
movements, and in this form was produced in London by the composer
himself as a "Passione instrumentale." He afterwards introduced solos and
choruses, and divided it into two parts, separating them by a largo
movement for wind instruments. It was then given at Eisenstadt in 1797,
and four years later was published in the new form, with the following
preface by the composer himself:--

About fifteen years ago I was applied to by a clergyman in Cadiz, and
requested to write instrumental music to the seven words of Jesus on
the cross. It was then customary every year, during Lent, to perform an
Oratorio in the Cathedral at Cadiz, the effect of which the following
arrangements contributed to heighten. The walls, windows, and columns
of the church were hung with black cloth, and only one large lamp,
hanging in the centre, lighted the solemn and religious gloom. At noon
all the doors were closed, and the music began. After a prelude, suited
to the occasion, the bishop ascended the pulpit, pronounced one of the
seven words, which was succeeded by reflections upon it. As soon as
these were ended he descended from the pulpit and knelt before the
altar. The pause was filled by music. The bishop ascended and descended
again a second, a third time, and so on; and each time the orchestra
filled up the intervals in the discourse.

My composition must be judged on a consideration of these
circumstances. The task of writing seven adagios, each of which was to
last about ten minutes, to preserve a connection between them, without
wearying the hearers, was none of the lightest, and I soon found that I
could not confine myself within the limits of the time prescribed.

The music was originally without text, and was printed in that form. It
was only at a later period that I was induced to add the text. The
Oratorio entitled "The Seven Words of our Redeemer on the Cross," as a
complete and, as regards the vocal parts, an entirely new work, was
first published by Messrs. Breitkopf and Härtel, of Leipsic. The
partiality with which this work has been received by scientific
musicians leads me to hope that it will not be without effect on the
public at large.

Joseph Haydn.

Vienna, March 1, 1880.

As the various movements are all of the same general tone and character,
though varied with all that skill and mastery of instrumental effect for
which Haydn was so conspicuous, it is needless to describe each
separately. By many of the musicians of his day it was considered one of
his most sublime productions; and Bombet declares that Haydn on more than
one occasion, when he was asked to which of his works he gave the
preference, replied, "The Seven Words."

It opens with an adagio for full orchestra, of a very sorrowful but
impressive character. Then follow each of the Seven Words, given out in
simple chorale form, followed by its chorus, namely:--

I.
PATIENCE.

"Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

_Chorus_: "Lamb of God! Surely Thou hast borne our sorrows."

II.
THE PENITENT FORGIVEN.

"Verily I say unto thee, this day shalt thou be with me in Paradise."

_Chorus_: "Lord, have mercy on me after Thy great goodness."

III.
THE MOURNERS.

"Woman, behold thy Son. Son, behold Thy mother."

_Chorus_: "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me."

IV.
DESOLATION.

"Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani?"

_Chorus_: "O my God, look upon Me."

V.
THE BITTER CUP.

"I thirst."

_Chorus_: "He treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath."

VI.
COMPLETE OBEDIENCE.

"It is finished."

_Chorus_: "He came down from Heaven."

VII.
THE GREAT OBLATION.

"Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit."

_Chorus_: "Into Thy hands, O Lord."

Following immediately after the last number the whole spirit of the music
changes with the chorus, "The Veil of the Temple was rent in twain," a
presto movement, sung fortissimo, describing the darkness, the quaking of
the earth, the rending of the rocks, the opening of the graves, and the
arising of the bodies of the saints who slept, with all that vividness in
imitation and sublimity of effect which characterize so many of the
composer's passages in "The Creation" and "The Seasons." Haydn was by
nature a deeply religious man, and that he felt the inspiration of the
solemn subject is shown by the manner in which he conceived it, and by
the exalted devotion of the music which accompanies the last words of the
Man of Sorrows. The lines which Bombet quotes from Dante in this
connection are hardly exaggerated:--

"He with such piety his thought reveals,
And with such heavenly sweetness clothes each tone,
That hell itself the melting influence feels."

Ariadne.

The cantata "Ariana a Naxos" was written in 1792, and is for a single
voice with orchestra. As an illustration of the original cantata form, it
is one of the most striking and perfect. Its story is an episode familiar
in mythology. When Minos, King of Crete, had vanquished the Athenians, he
imposed upon Ægeus, their king, the severe penalty that seven youths
should be annually sent to Crete to be devoured by the Minotaur. In the
fourth year the king's son, Theseus, was among the number. He was more
fortunate than his predecessors, for he slew the Minotaur and was rescued
from the labyrinth by following the thread of Ariadne, daughter of Minos,
who had conceived a violent passion for the handsome warrior, conqueror
of Centaurs and Amazons. Upon his return to Athens she accompanied him as
far as the island Naxos, where the ungrateful wretch perfidiously left
her. It is this scene of desertion which Haydn chose for his cantata.

Ariadne is supposed to have just awakened from sleep and reclines upon a
mossy bank. The first number is a recitative and largo in which she
hopefully calls upon Theseus to return. The melody is noble and spirited
in style, and yet tender and fervent in its expression of love for the
absent one. In the next number, a recitative and andante ("No one
listens! My sad Words Echo but repeats"), hopefulness turns to anxiety.
The contrast between the blissful longing of the one and the growing
solicitude expressed in the other number is very striking. The next
melody, an _allegro vivace_,--

"What see I? O heavens! Unhappy me!
Those are the sails of the Argosy! Greeks are those yonder!
Theseus! 'Tis he stands at the prow,"--

is remarkable for its passionate intensity and dramatic strength. The
clouds of despair close over her, and she calls down the vengeance of the
gods upon the deserter. In the next two numbers, an adagio ("To whom can
I turn me?"), and an andante ("Ah! how for Death I am longing"), the
melodies closely follow the sentiment of the text, accompanied by very
expressive instrumentation. An _allegro presto_, infused with the very
spirit of hopeless gloom and despair, ends the cantata:--

"Woe's me! deceived, betrayed!
Earth holds no consolation."

In the mythological version, however, consolation came; for Bacchus,
"ever young," and full of pity for lorn maids, married her, and gave her
a crown of seven stars, which after her death was placed among the
constellations. The music presents many difficulties for a singer, as it
requires the noblest style of declamation, peculiar refinement of
sentiment, and rare musical intelligence, as well as facility in
execution to give expression to its recitative and strongly contrasting
melodies, which have no unity of key, but follow the varying sentiments,
with their changes of tone-color, as closely as Theseus followed his
thread.

HILLER.

Ferdinand Hiller, one of the most eminent of modern German composers,
and a writer of more than ordinary ability, was born at
Frankfort-on-the-Main, Oct. 24, 1811. His musical talent displayed itself
so early that in his tenth year he appeared in concerts. In 1825 he began
his studies with Hummel, and two years afterwards accompanied him on a
concert-tour to Vienna, where he published his first work, a piano-forte
quartet. He next went to Paris, where he remained until 1835, occupying
for a time the position of professor in Choron's "Institution de
Musique," but principally devoting himself to piano-playing, composition,
and concerts. In 1836 he returned to Frankfort, and for more than a year
conducted the concerts of the Coecilienverein. He then went to Milan,
where he met Rossini, and with his assistance brought out his opera
"Romilda" at La Scala, but without much success. About the same time he
began his oratorio "The Destruction of Jerusalem," one of his most
important works. In 1841 he made a second journey to Italy and gave
particular attention to church music. On his return he first resided at
Frankfort, but was soon in Leipsic, where he conducted the Gewandhaus
concerts (1843-44), and after that time in Dresden, where he produced two
more operas, "Traum in der Christ-nacht" and "Conradin." In 1847 he was
appointed municipal capellmeister at Düsseldorf, and three years later
took a similar position at Cologne, where he organized the Conservatory.
In that city he exercised a widespread influence, not alone by his
teaching, but also by his direction of the famous Lower Rhine festivals.
He also made many musical tours which increased his fame. In 1852-53 he
conducted opera in Paris; in 1870, gave a series of successful concerts
in St. Petersburg; and in 1871-72 visited England, where he produced his
works both in public concerts and festivals. His compositions are very
numerous, including among the most prominent, five operas, four
overtures, a festival march for the opening of the Albert Hall, the
Spring Symphony, the oratorios "Destruction of Jerusalem" and "Saul," and
the cantatas "Heloise," "Night," "Loreley," "O weint um Sie," "Ver
sacrum," "Nala and Damajanti," "Song of Victory," "Song of the Spirits
over the Water," "Prometheus," and "Rebecca." He has also enriched
musical literature with many important works, among them, "Aus dem
Tonleben unserer Zeit" (1867), "Personalisches und Musikalisches" (1876),
"Recollections of Mendelssohn" (1874), and "Letters to an Unknown"
(1877). He died in May, 1885.

Song of Victory.

The "Song of Victory," a cantata for soprano solo, chorus, and orchestra,
was first produced at the Cologne Festival of 1871, and was written to
celebrate the victorious conclusion of the Franco-German war of 1870. It
consists of eight numbers, all of which are sacred in character, though
their purpose is to express gratitude and joy over the triumph of the
German arms.

The opening number is a vigorous, jubilant chorus ("The Lord great
Wonders for us hath wrought"). It begins with a slow movement in massive
chords, gathering animation as it proceeds, and closing pianissimo on the
words, "There is none that searcheth or understandeth." The second number
is a soprano solo and chorus ("Praise, O Jerusalem, praise the Lord")
declamatory in style. The third ("The Heathen are fallen in the Pit") is
assigned to chorus, and is the most dramatic in the work, describing as
it does the terrors of war. In the fourth ("See, it is written in the
Book of the Righteous"), a short soprano solo, the melody is a tender
lament for the dead. The fifth ("He in Tears that soweth") is a soprano
solo with chorus of first and second sopranos and altos. In this number
lamentation gives way to hope and gladness, leading up to the last three
numbers,--the six-part chorus ("Mighty is our God"), full of effective
sustained harmony, and the soprano solos and choruses of praise and
hallelujah which resume the triumphant style of the opening chorus with
increased power and enthusiasm.

HOFMANN.

Heinrich Karl Johann Hofmann was born Jan. 13, 1842, at Berlin. In his
younger days he was a scholar at the Kullak Conservatory, and studied
composition with Grell, Dehn, and Wüerst. Prior to 1873 he devoted
himself to private instruction, but since that time he has been engaged
exclusively in composition. Among his works which first attracted public
attention by their intrinsic excellence as well as by the knowledge of
orchestration which they displayed, were an "Hungarian Suite" and the
"Frithjof Symphony." Among his piano compositions are the following
four-handed pieces, which have been remarkably popular: "Italienische
Liebesnovelle," "Liebesfrühling," "Trompeter von Säckingen,"
"Steppenbilder," and "Aus meinem Tagebuch." His choral works are
"Nonnengesang," "Die Schöne Melusine," "Aschenbrödel," and "Cinderella."
Among his operas are "Cartouche" (1869), "Armin" (1878), and "Annchen von
Tharau" (1878). He has also written several works for mixed chorus and
männerchor, piano pieces, songs, duets, a violoncello concerto, piano
trios and quartets, and a string sextet.

Melusina.

The beautiful story of Melusina has always had an attraction for artists
and musicians. Moritz von Schwind, the painter, has illustrated it in a
cycle of frescos; Julius Zellner has told it for us in a series of
orchestral tone-pictures; and Mendelssohn has chosen it as the subject of
one of his most charming overtures. The version which Hofmann uses in his
cantata entitled "The Fable of the Fair Melusina" (written in 1875) runs
as follows: Melusina, the nymph of a beautiful fountain in the Bressilian
forest, and Count Raymond have fallen in love with each other. They
declare their passion in the presence of her nymphs, and plight their
troth. Melusina engages to be his dutiful wife the first six days of the
week, but makes Raymond promise never to inquire or seek to discover what
she does on the seventh, which, she assures him, shall "never see her
stray from the path of duty." On that day she must assume her original
form, half fish and half woman, and bathe with her nymphs. Raymond
promises, calls his hunters, introduces his bride to them, and the
wedding cortège moves joyfully on to the castle. In the second part
Raymond's mother, Clotilda, and her brother, Sintram, intrigue against
Melusina. They denounce her as a witch, and the accusation seems to be
justified by a drought which has fallen upon the land since the marriage.
The suffering people loudly clamor for the surrender of the "foul witch."
After long resistance Raymond is induced to break into the bathing-house
which he had erected over the fountain. Melusina and her nymphs,
surprised by him, call upon the king of the water-spirits to avenge his
treason. The king appears and consigns him to death. Seized with pity,
Melusina intercedes for him, and the king agrees to spare his life upon
condition that they shall separate. Raymond once more embraces her,
neither of them knowing that it will be fatal to him, dies in her arms,
and the sorrowing Melusina returns to the flood.

The prologue describes Melusina's fountain, and contains a leading motive
which characterizes Raymond. The chorus part is very romantic in its
style, and is set to a graceful, poetical accompaniment. The opening
number introduces Melusina and her nymphs in a chorus extolling their
watery abode ("For the Flood is life-giving"). In the second number she
describes the passion she feels when thinking of Raymond. The song is
interrupted by horn signals indicating the approach of her lover and his
hunters, who join in a fresh, vigorous hunting-song and then disperse. In
the fourth number Raymond gives expression to his love for Melusina,
followed by a fervid duet between them, in which the lovers interchange
vows of constancy. The sixth number, describing their engagement in
presence of the nymphs, and concluding with a stirring chorus of nymphs
and hunters, closes the first part.

The second part begins with a theme from the love-duet, followed by a
significant theme in the minor, ominous of approaching danger. In the
eighth number the people clamor in furious chorus for the witch. In the
ninth, a trio and chorus, Clotilda warns her son of the misery he has
brought upon his house and people, and urges him to discover what his
wife does on the seventh day. The next number introduces Melusina and her
nymphs in the bath, the former singing a plaintive song ("Love is
freighted with Sorrow and Care"). A noise is heard at the gate, and the
nymphs join in a chorus in canon form ("Hark! hark! Who has come to
watch"). As Raymond appears, the scene grows very dramatic. The king of
the water-spirits is summoned; but before he rises from the water
Melusina, in very melodious recitative, laments her lover's treason. The
scene culminates in the sentence, "Let Death be his lot." He is spared by
her intercession, but she is commanded to return to the flood. Raymond
appeals for forgiveness, and a part of the love-duet is repeated. The
final embrace is fatal to him, and he dies in her arms. The chorus
repeats the melody of the opening number ("For the Flood is
life-giving"), and she bids her dead lover a last farewell, and
disappears with the nymphs and water-spirits, singing, "Forget with the
Dwellers on Earth all earthly Woe." The epilogue is substantially the
same as the prologue.

LESLIE.

Henry David Leslie was born in London, June 18, 1822, and in his
sixteenth year began his musical studies with Charles Lucas, a famous
violoncellist and for a long time principal of the Royal Academy of
Music. Like his master, Leslie played the violoncello several years in
the concerts of the Sacred Harmonic Society, subsequently becoming its
conductor,--a position which he held until 1861. In 1855 he organized the
famous Leslie choir of one hundred voices, which took the first prize at
the international competition of 1878 in Paris. In 1863 he was chosen
conductor of the Herefordshire Philharmonic Society, and in the following
year became principal of the National College of Music. In 1874 he was
appointed conductor of the Guild of Amateur Musicians in London. He has
been a prolific and very popular composer, among his works being the
following: Te Deum and Jubilate in D (1846); symphony in F (1847);
anthem, "Let God arise" (1849); overture, "The Templar" (1852); oratorio,
"Immanuel" (1853); operetta, "Romance, or Bold Dick Turpin" (1857);
oratorio, "Judith," written for the Birmingham Festival (1858); cantata,
"Holyrood" (1860); cantata, "The Daughter of the Isles" (1861); and the
opera "Ida" (1864). In addition to these he has written a large number of
songs, anthems, part songs, madrigals, and piano pieces, besides music
for his choir.

Holyrood.

"Holyrood" was written in 1861, and was first produced in February of
that year at St. James's Hall, London. Leslie's collaborator was the
accomplished scholar Chorley, who has certainly prepared one of the most
refined and attractive librettos ever furnished a composer. The story
represents an episode during the period of Queen Mary's innocent life,
overshadowed in the close by the dismal prophecy of the terrible fate so
rapidly approaching her. The characters are Queen Mary (soprano), Mary
Beatoun (Beton), her maid of honor (contralto); Rizzio, the ill-fated
minstrel (tenor); and John Knox (bass). The scene is laid in a court of
the palace of Holyrood, and introduces a coterie of the court ladies and
gentlemen engaged in one of those joyous revels of which Mary was so
fond. In the midst of the pleasantry, however, the Queen moves pensively
about, overcome with sadness, as if her thoughts were far away. Her
favorite maid tries in vain to rouse her from her melancholy with a
Scotch ballad. The minstrel Rizzio is then urged to try his skill. He
takes his lute and sings an Italian canzonet which has the desired
effect. The sensuous music of the South diverts her. She expresses her
delight, and seizing his lute sings her new joy in a French romance. It
is interrupted by a Puritan psalm of warning heard outside. The revellers
seek to drown it; but it grows in power, and only ceases when the leader,
John Knox, enters with stern and forbidding countenance. The Queen is
angry at first, but bids him welcome provided his mission is a kindly
one. He answers with a warning. As he has the gift of prophecy, she
orders him to read her future. After the bridal, the murder of the
bridegroom; after the murder, battle; after the battle, prison; after the
prison, the scaffold, is the tragic fate he foresees. The enraged
courtiers call for his arrest and punishment, but the light-hearted Queen
bids him go free:--

"Let him go, and hear our laughter!
Mirth to-day, whate'er come after."

The cantata opens with a chorus for female voices in three divisions,
with a contralto solo, in the Scotch style:--

"The mavis carols in the shaw,
The leaves are green on every tree,
And June, whose car the sunbeams draw,
Is dropping gold on bank and lea;
The hind is merry in the mead,
The child that gathers gowan flower,
The Thane upon his prancing steed,
The high-born lady in her bower,--
Gay, gay, all are gay,
On this happy summer day."

After a short recitative passage in which Mary Beatoun appeals to the
revellers to lure the Queen from her loneliness, and their reply ("O
Lady, never sit alone"), the maid sings a very characteristic and
engaging Scotch ballad:--

"There once was a maiden in Melrose town
(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)
Who looked on the best in the country down,
Because she had lovers, one, two, three.
The first was a lord with his chest of gold,
The second a ruddy shepherd so tall,
The third was a spearsman bluff and bold,--
But Pride, it goeth before a fall.

"One hour she smilèd, the next she wept
(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)
And with frowns and blushes a chain she kept
Round the necks of her hapless lovers three.
For the lord in her lap poured wide his gold,
And the shepherd ran at her beck and call,
And the spearsman swore she was curst and cold,
But Pride, it goeth before a fall.

"At last it fell out on a bleak March day
(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)
There sate at her window the maiden gay
And looked o'er the frost for her lovers three.
But the lord had to France sailed forth with his gold,
And the shepherd had married her playmate small,
And the spearsman in battle lay stark and cold,--
So Pride, it goeth before a fall."

As might have been expected, this mournful ditty fails to rouse the Queen
from her melancholy, whereupon Rizzio takes his lute and sings the
canzonet "Calla stagion novella," a very slow and graceful movement,
closing with a sensuous allegro, written in the genuine Italian style,
though rather Verdi-ish for the times of Rizzio. The canzonet has the
desired effect, and is followed by a delightful French romance, sung by
the Queen, in which a tender minor theme is set off against a fascinating
waltz melody, closing with a brilliant finale:--

"In my pleasant land of France
There is gladness everywhere;
In the very streams a dance,
Full of life, yet debonair,
Ah, me! ah, me!
To have left it was a sin,
Even for this kind countrie.
But we will not mourn to-day,
Bid the harp and rebec play,
Merrilie, merrilie,
Sing and smile, and jocund be;
If my father's land is dear,
Mirth and valor still are here;
Maidens faithful, champions gay,
France has melted far away
Beyond the sea."

At the close of the pretty romance, the revel begins with a stately
minuet and vocal trio ("Fal, lal, la") for the Queen, Mary Beatoun, and
Rizzio. It is interrupted by the unison psalm-tune of the Puritans, a
stern, severe old melody set to a "moving bass" accompaniment:--

"O thou who sittest on the throne
And wilt exalt thine horn on high,
While captive men in prison groan,
And women poor of hunger die,
Beware! albeit a Haman proud,
Served by thy slaves on bended knee,
The heaven can speak in thunder loud
And rend to dust both them and thee."

There is a temporary pause in the revels, but at the Queen's command they
are resumed with a quick-step introduced by the pipes and full of the
genuine Scotch spirit and bustle, the "Fal lal" trio and chorus still
accompanying it. It is interrupted afresh by a repetition of the psalm
("A Hand of Fire was on the Wall"), after which John Knox enters. With
his entrance the gay music closes and the work assumes a gloomy tragic
cast as the dialogue proceeds and the terrible incidents of the prophecy
are unfolded. It is a relief when they join in a hopeful duet ("E'en if
Earth should wholly fail me") which is very quiet and melodious. It leads
to the Queen's farewell, a quaintly-written bit, with an old-fashioned
cadenza, followed by the final chorus, which takes up a theme in the same
joyous spirit as the opening one:--

"Hence with evil omen,
Doleful bird of night,
Who in tears of women
Takest chief delight!
Think not to alarm her,
As with mystic power;
Nought shall ever harm her,
Scotland's lily flower."

LISZT.

Franz Liszt, the most eminent pianist of his time, who also obtained
world-wide celebrity as a composer and orchestral conductor, was born at
Raiding, Hungary, Oct. 22, 1811. His father was an accomplished amateur,
and played the piano and violoncello with more than ordinary skill. He
was so impressed with the promise of his son that he not only gave him
lessons in music, but also devoted himself to his artistic progress with
the utmost assiduity. In his ninth year Liszt played for the first time
in public at Oedenburg. His performances aroused such enthusiasm that
several Hungarian noblemen encouraged him to continue his studies, and
guaranteed him sufficient to defray the expenses of six years' tuition.
He went to Vienna at once and studied the piano with Czerny, besides
taking lessons in composition of Salieri and Randhartinger. It was while
in that city that his first composition, a variation on a waltz of
Diabelli, appeared. In 1823 he went to Paris, hoping to secure permission
to enter the Conservatory; but Cherubini refused it on account of his
foreign origin, though Cherubini himself was a foreigner. Nothing
daunted, young Liszt continued his studies with Reicha and Paer, and two
years afterwards brought out a two-act opera entitled "Don Sancho," which
met with a very cordial reception. The slight he received from Cherubini
aroused popular sympathy for him. His wonderful playing attracted
universal attention and gained him admission into the most brilliant
Parisian salons. He was a favorite with every one, especially with the
ladies. For two or three years he made artistic tours through France,
Switzerland, and England, accompanied by his father, and everywhere met
with the most brilliant success. In 1827 the father died, leaving him
alone in the world; but good fortune was on his side. During his stay in
Paris he had made the friendship of Victor Hugo, George Sand, Lamartine,
and other great lights in literature and music, and their influence
prepared the way for his permanent success. From 1839 to 1847 he
travelled from one city to another, arousing the most extraordinary
enthusiasm; his progress was one continued ovation. In 1849 he went to
Weimar and accepted the post of conductor at the Court Theatre. He made
that city the musical centre of Europe. It was there that his greatest
compositions were written, that the school of the music of the future was
founded, and that Wagner's operas first gained an unprejudiced hearing;
and it is from Weimar that his distinguished pupils, like Von Bülow,
Tausig, Bendel, Bronsart, Klindworth, Winterberger, Reubke, and many
others date their success. In 1859 he resigned his position and after
that time resided at Rome, Pesth, and Weimar, working for the best
interest of his beloved art, and encouraging young musicians to reach the
highest standards. Few men of this century have had such a powerful
influence upon music, or have done so much to elevate and purify it. His
most important works were the "Divina Commedia" and "Faust" symphonies,
the twelve symphonic poems, the six Hungarian rhapsodies, the "Graner
Mass," the "Hungarian Coronation Mass," and the oratorios "Christus" and
"The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth." Besides these he wrote a large number
of orchestral pieces, songs, and cantatas, and a rich and varied
collection of piano-forte solos, transcriptions, and arrangements. He
died July 31, 1886.

Prometheus.

Liszt's cantata "Prometheus," composed in 1850, is based upon the poem of
the same name, written by Johann Gottfried von Herder, the court preacher
of Weimar. The poem closely follows the well-known legend of Prometheus'
punishment for stealing fire from heaven, and his ultimate rescue by
Hercules from the vulture which preyed upon his vitals. The poet pictures
the victim in the midst of his sufferings, consoled by the knowledge that
he has been a benefactor to the human race. The spirits of the ocean mock
and menace him, but the harvesters and tillers of the soil praise him for
the bounteous gifts he has given to the earth. Ceres and Bacchus,
protectors of the soil and its products, also pay their tribute of
sympathy to him and thank him for the blessing of fire. Hercules at last
releases him from his torture by killing the vulture and breaking the
chains which bind him to his rock. The sufferer is brought before Themis,
who announces that the divine wrath has been appeased by his long
punishment, and that the gods forgive him.

In building up his cantata Liszt has introduced several prologues from
the poem without music, which serve as narrators explaining the
situations, linking and leading up to the musical numbers, which are
mainly choral. Thus the opening prologue pictures the sufferings of
Prometheus, the crime for which he is forced to endure such a terrible
penalty, and the patience, hope, and heroism of the victim. The closing
lines,--

"Now through the hush of night burst well-known voices
Upon his ear. From out the slumbering ocean,
Fanning his cheek with breath of the sea waves,
The daughters of Oceanus approach,"--

introduce the opening chorus of sea-nymphs ("Prometheus, Woe to thee"),
for female voices, arranged in double parts, and set to a restless,
agitated accompaniment, expressive of fear and despair. The second
prologue, reciting the wrath of Oceanus "on his swift-winged ocean
steed," that mortals should have dared to vex his peaceful waters, and
the reply of Prometheus that "on the broad earth each place is free to
all," introduces the choruses of Tritons and Oceanides. The first is a
mixed chorus full of brightness and spirit ("Freedom! afar from Land upon
the open Sea"). Their exultant song is followed by a fascinating melody
("Hail! O Prometheus, hail!") for female chorus, with short but
expressive solos for soprano and alto ("When to our Waters the golden
Time shall come"), the number closing with double chorus in full rich
harmony ("Holy and grand and free is the Gift of Heaven"). Thereupon
follows the third prologue:--

"Scarcely has ceased the Ocean's song of joy,
Which, breathing peace unto Prometheus' soul,
Wakens within his breast long-buried hope,
When once again the sound of lamentation
Bursts on his ear and fills the air with sighs.
Seated within a lion-drawn chariot comes
The founder of his race--Gæa herself--
With her a train of wood-nymphs, loudly weeping."

It introduces a chorus of Dryads ("Woe to thee, Prometheus") of the same
general character as the opening chorus of sea-nymphs, and containing a
very dramatic and declamatory alto solo ("Deserted stand God's sacred
Altars in the old Forest"). A dialogue follows between Gæa and
Prometheus, in which the latter bravely defends his course. As the Dryads
disappear, Prometheus soliloquizes:--

"'This is, in truth, the noblest deed
Mortal has ever dared. Beat high, my heart!
On this foundation built I up my race,--
On deathless friendship and fraternity.
Courage, Alcides! Bravely fight thy fight.
Conquer, and thou shalt free me.' From his dreams,
Roused is the Titan by a song of joy.
Before him, crowned with the rich harvest, stands
Ceres with her train of reapers."

A mixed chorus of gleaners follows ("With the Lark sweetly singing"),
which can hardly be excelled for grace and loveliness of melody. In the
next prologue Ceres consoles Prometheus, and while she is speaking a
shout of gladness rises and Bacchus appears. He smites the rock, and at
his touch a bower of grape-vines and ivy boughs interlaces over the head
of the Titan and shadows him. This serves to introduce the chorus of
Vine-dressers ("Hail to the Pleasure-giver"), a lively strain for male
voices with an effective solo quartet. As Prometheus resumes his
soliloquy, Hermes approaches, leading Pandora, and seeks to allure him
from his purpose by her enchantments, but in vain:--

"The Titan conquers, and he feels the hour--
The fated hour--draw near. Above his head
The vulture hovers, fearing to approach;
While the earth trembles, and the rocks are shaken.
Voices are heard from out the gloomy depths."

The voices are those of the spirits in the lower regions singing a very
melodramatic chorus ("Woe! woe! the sacred Sleep of the Dead has been
disturbed"). An _allegro moderato_ for orchestra follows, preluding the
approach of Hercules, who bends his giant bow and kills the vulture,
strikes the fetters off and bids him "Go hence unto thy Mother's Throne."
The scene introduces the seventh number ("All human Foresight wanders in
deepest Night"), an expressive and stately male chorus with solo quartet.
The last prologue describes the scene at the throne of Themis, the pardon
of Prometheus, and her assurance that "Henceforth Olympus smiles upon the
Earth." Pallas presents him with a veiled figure as the reward of his
heroism, "who will bring to thy race the richest blessing,--Truth." The
goddess unveils her and declares her name "Agathea. She brings to man the
purest, holiest gift,--Charity." The closing chorus of the Muses
follows:--

"Of all bright thoughts that bloom on earth,
That raise poor mortals high as heaven,
The holiest, the blessedest is Charity.
Hail, Prometheus! Hail to mankind!"

The Bells of Strasburg.

"Die Glocken des Strassburger Münsters" ("The Bells of Strasburg
Cathedral") was written in 1874, and is dedicated to the poet Longfellow,
from whose "Golden Legend" the composer took his theme for musical
treatment. The cantata, however, does not deal with the beautiful legend
itself as related by the old minnesinger, Hartmann von Aue, which
Longfellow has told so powerfully in his "Christus," but simply with the
prologue, describing the futile attempt of Lucifer and the Powers of the
Air to tear down the cross of the Strasburg Cathedral during the night
storm. It was a subject peculiarly attractive to Liszt, as it offered him
free scope for his fancies and unlimited opportunity for the display of
his unique and sometimes eccentric orchestration. The work is written for
barytone solo and mixed chorus, and is divided into two parts,--a short
prelude which is entitled "Excelsior" (_andante maestoso_), and in which
this word is several times repeated by the chorus with gradually
increasing power from piano to fortissimo; and "The Bells," which
comprises the principal part of the work.

The second part opens with a massive introduction (_allegro agitato
assai_), in which the bells, horns, and trumpets play an important part,
leading up to the furious invocation of Lucifer:--

"Hasten! Hasten!
O ye spirits!
From its station drag the ponderous
Cross of iron that to mock us
Is uplifted high in air!"

Without a break comes the response of the spirits, first and second
sopranos, altos, and tenors ("Oh! we cannot, for around it"), followed by
the Latin chant of the bells sung by tenors and basses, with a soft
tremolo accompaniment:--

"Laudo Deum verum!
Plebem voco!
Congrego clerum!"

Again with increasing power Lucifer shouts his command:--

"Lower! Lower!
Hover downward!
Seize the loud, vociferous bells, and
Clashing, clanging to the pavement,
Hurl them from their windy tower!"

As before, the chorus responds in a sweet harmonious strain ("All thy
Thunders here are harmless"), again followed by the slow and sonorous
chant of the bells:--

"Defunctos ploro!
Pestem fugo!
Festa decoro!"

Lucifer reiterates his command with constantly increasing energy:--

"Shake the casements
Break the painted
Panes that flame with gold and crimson;
Scatter them like leaves of autumn,
Swept away before the blast."

In its response this time the chorus is full of energy and impetuosity as
it shouts with great power, "O, we cannot! the Archangel Michael flames
from every window." The chant of the bells is now taken by the basses
alone:--

"Funera plango!
Fulgura frango!
Sabbato pango!"

Lucifer makes his last appeal with all the strength that voice and
orchestra can reach:--

"Aim your lightnings
At the oaken
Massive, iron-studded portals!
Sack the house of God, and scatter
Wide the ashes of the dead."

In the choral response ("The Apostles and the Martyrs wrapped in
Mantles") the sopranos and altos are in unison, making with the first and
second tenors a splendid effect. For the last time the first and second
basses sing the chant of the bells:--

"Excito lentos!
Dissipo ventos!
Paco cruentos!"

With no abatement of vigor the baffled Lucifer sounds his signal for
retreat, and the voices reply, sopranos and altos in unison:--

"Onward! onward!
With the night-wind,
Over field and farm and forest,
Lonely homestead, darksome hamlet,
Blighting all we breathe upon."

As the voices die away, choir, organ, and orchestra join with majestic
effect in the intonation of the Gregorian chant:--

"Nocte surgentes
Vigilemus omnes!
Laudemus Deum verum."

The cantata shows Liszt's talent rather than his genius. It is a
wonderful mosaic-work of fancies, rather than an original, studied
composition with definite purpose. Its motives, while not inspired, are
finely conceived, and are presented not only gracefully, but in keeping
with the spirituality of the subject.

MACFARREN.

George Alexander Macfarren, one of the most prominent of modern English
composers, was born in London, March 2, 1813. He began the study of music
under the tuition of Charles Lucas in 1827. Two years later he entered
the Royal Academy of Music, and in 1834 became one of its professors. The
latter year dates the beginning of his career as a composer, his first
work having been a symphony in F minor. During the next thirty years his
important works were as follows: overture, "Chevy Chace" (1836); "Devil's
Opera," produced at the Lyceum (1838); "Emblematical Tribute on the
Queen's Marriage" and an arrangement of Purcell's "Dido and Æneas"
(1840); editions of "Belshazzar," "Judas Maccabæus," and "Jephthah," for
the Handel Society (1843); the opera "Don Quixote" (1846); the opera
"Charles II." (1849); serenata, "The Sleeper Awakened," and the cantata
"Lenora" (1851); the cantata "May Day," for the Bradford Festival (1856);
the cantata "Christmas" (1859); the opera "Robin Hood" (1860); the masque
"Freya's Gift" and opera "Jessy Lea" (1863); and the operas "She Stoops
to Conquer," "The Soldier's Legacy," and "Helvellyn" (1864). About the
last year his sight, which had been impaired for many years, failed. His
blindness, however, did not diminish his activity. He still served as
professor in the Royal Academy, and dictated compositions,--indeed some
of his best works were composed during this time of affliction. In 1873
appeared his oratorio "St. John the Baptist," which met with an
enthusiastic reception at the Bristol Festival of that year. In 1875 he
was elected professor of music at Cambridge, to fill the vacancy
occasioned by the death of Sterndale Bennett, and in the same year was
also appointed principal of the Royal Academy of Music. In 1876 his
oratorio "The Resurrection" was performed at the Birmingham Festival, and
in 1877 the oratorio "Joseph" at Leeds, besides the cantata "The Lady of
the Lake" at Glasgow. Grove catalogues his other compositions as follows:
a cathedral service, anthems, chants, psalm-tunes, and introits for the
Holy Days and Seasons of the English Church (1866); "Songs in a
Cornfield" (1868); "Shakspeare Songs for Four Voices" (1860-64); songs
from Lane's "Arabian Nights," and Kingsley's and Tennyson's poems:
overtures to "The Merchant of Venice," "Romeo and Juliet," "Hamlet," and
"Don Carlos;" symphonies, string quartets, and a quintet; a concerto for
violin and orchestra; and sonatas for piano-forte alone, and in
combination with other instruments. As lecturer, writer, and critic, Sir
George Macfarren also holds a high place, among his important works being
"Rudiments of Harmony" (1860); six Lectures on Harmony (1867); analyses
of oratorios for the Sacred Harmonic Society (1853-57), and of orchestral
works for the Philharmonic Society (1869-71); and a "Musical History,"
being a reprint of an article on this subject contributed by him to the
Encyclopædia Britannica.

Christmas.

"Christmas," the poem by John Oxenford, was written in 1859, and was
first performed at one of the concerts of the Musical Society of London,
on the 9th of May 1860. The poem itself contains no story. It is merely a
tribute to the season; but at the same time it is not destitute of
incident, so that it possesses considerable dramatic interest.

After a short instrumental introduction the cantata opens with a double
chorus in antiphonal style, in which both the bright and the dark sides
of winter are celebrated. The second choir takes up the theme:--

"The trees lift up their branches bare
Against the sky:
Through the keen and nipping air
For spring's return they seem to cry,
As the winds with solemn tone
About them sadly moan;"

and the first choir replies:--

"Old Winter's hand is always free,
He scatters diamonds round;
They dart their light from every tree,
They glisten on the ground.
Then who shall call the branches bare,
When gems like those are sparkling there?"

The two then join and bring their friendly contest to a close:--

2nd Choir.--"Come in, and closely shut the door
Against the wintry weather;
Of frost and snow we'll think no more,
While round the fire we sit together."

1st Choir.--"Rush out from every cottage door,
'Tis brave and bracing weather;
A madder throng ne'er met before,
Than those which now have come together."

This double number, which is very effective, is followed by a soprano
recitative and romance ("Welcome, blest Season"), tender and yet joyous
in character, which celebrates the delight of friendly reunions at
Christmas tide, and the pleasure with which those long absent seek "the
old familiar door." In the next number, an old English carol ("A Blessing
on this noble House and all who in it dwell"), Christmas is fairly
introduced. It is sung first in unison by full chorus, then changes to
harmony, in which one choir retains the melody, and closes with a new
subject for orchestral treatment, the united choirs singing the carol.
Christmas would not be complete without its story; and this we have in
the next number for contralto solo and chorus, entitled "A Christmas
Tale." It is preceded by recitative, written in the old English style,
and each verse closes with a refrain, first sung as a solo, and then
repeated in full harmony by the chorus:--

"A bleak and kindless morning had broke on Althenay,
Where shunning Danish foemen the good King Alfred lay;
'In search of food our hunters departed long ago,
I fear that they have perished, embedded in the snow.'
While thus he sadly muses, an aged man he sees,
With white hair on his forehead like frost upon the trees.
An image of the winter the haggard pilgrim stands,
And breathing forth his sorrows, lifts up his withered hands:
'The Heavenly King, who reigns on high,
Bless him who hears the poor man's cry.'

"'Our hearts are moved with pity, thy sufferings we deplore,'
Said Alfred's queen, the gentle, 'but scanty is our store;
One loaf alone is left us.' 'Then give it,' said the King,
'For He who feeds the ravens, yes, He will fresh abundance bring.'
The wind was roaring loudly, the snow was falling fast,
As from the lofty turret the last, last loaf he cast.
An image of the winter, the haggard pilgrim stands,
And Alfred's welcome pittance he catches with his hands.
'The Heavenly King, who reigns on high,
Bless him who hears the poor man's cry.'

"The snow is thickly falling, the winter wind is loud,
But yonder in the distance appears a joyous crowd.
The hunters bring their booty, the peasants bring their corn,
And cheering songs of triumph along the blast are borne.
Before another morning down-stricken is the foe,
And blood of Danish warriors is red upon the snow.
Amid the conquering Saxons the aged pilgrim stands,
And like a holy prophet exclaims with lifted hands,
'The Heavenly King, who reigns on high,
Bless him who hears the poor man's cry.'"

A graceful little duet for female voices ("Little Children, all
rejoice"), picturing the delights of childhood and its exemption from
care, follows the Saxon story and leads up to the finale, which is choral
throughout, and gives all the pleasant details of Christmas cheer,--the
feast in the vaulted hall, the baron of beef, the boar with the lemon in
his jaw, the pudding, "gem of all the feast," the generous wassail, and
the mistletoe bough with its warning to maids. In delightfully
picturesque old English music the joyous scene comes to an end:--

"Varied sports the evening close,
Dancers form in busy rows:
Hoodwink'd lovers roam about,
Hope to find the right one out,
And when they fail how merry is the shout!
Round yon flickering flame of blue
Urchins sit, an anxious crew;
Dainties rich the bold invite,
While from the fire the timid shrink with fright.
Welcome all, welcome all.
'Tis merry now in the vaulted hall,
The mistletoe is overhead,
The holly flaunts its berries red,
The wassail-bowl goes gayly round;
Our mirth awakes the echoes sound,
All eyes are bright, all hearts are gay;
Thus ends our Christmas day."

MACKENZIE.

Alexander C. Mackenzie, one of the very few successful Scotch composers,
was born at Edinburgh, in 1847. His father was a musician, and
recognizing his son's talent, sent him to Germany at the age of ten. He
began his studies with Ulrich Eduard Stein at Schwartzburg-Sondershausen,
and four years later entered the ducal orchestra as violinist. He
remained there until 1862, when he went to England to study the violin
with M. Sainton. In the same year he was elected king's scholar of the
Royal Academy of Music. Three years later he returned to Edinburgh and
established himself as a piano-teacher. The main work of his life,
however, has been composition, and to this he has devoted himself with
assiduity and remarkable success. Grove catalogues among his works:
"Cervantes," an overture for orchestra; a scherzo, for ditto; overture to
a comedy; a string quintet, and many other pieces in MS.; piano-forte
quartet in B., op. 11; Trois Morceaux pour Piano, op. 15; two songs, op.
12; besides songs, part-songs, anthems, and pieces for the piano. This
catalogue can now be increased by four of the most important works he has
produced: a Scotch Rhapsody, introduced into this country by the Theodore
Thomas orchestra; the oratorio "Rose of Sharon" (1884); an opera, "The
Troubadour" (1885), and the cantata, "The Story of Sayid" (1886), which
forms the subject of the subjoined sketch.

The Story of Sayid.

"The Story of Sayid," a dramatic cantata in two parts, the libretto by
Joseph Bennett, was first produced at the Leeds Triennial Festival, Oct.
13, 1886. Its story is founded upon that of a poem in Edwin Arnold's
"Pearls of the Faith," and embodies a myth which is current among nearly
all Oriental nations. The characters are Ilmas, daughter of Sâwa
(soprano); Sayid, an Arab chief (tenor); Sâwa, a Hindoo prince
(barytone); a watchman (tenor or barytone); and a horseman (barytone).
The opening scene pictures the desolation of the land of Sâwa, caused by
the invasion of an Arab band, led by their chieftain, Sayid. In the midst
of the popular lamentations a messenger announces the defeat of the Arabs
and the capture of their leader, who is brought to the city and sentenced
to death on the spot. As Sayid prepares to meet his fate, he is
recognized by Sâwa as his rescuer at a time when he was hunting in the
hills and perishing with thirst. He offers him any boon he may ask except
that of life. Sayid entreats that he may be allowed to visit his aged
father, promising to return afterwards and suffer his fate. When Sâwa
asks who will be hostage for him, his own daughter, Ilmas, offers
herself. Moved to pity for the Arab, she persists in her offer, and her
father at last reluctantly consents. The second scene opens in Ilmas's
palace, and we discover that pity has grown into passion for Sayid during
his absence. She is interrupted in her meditations by Sâwa, who enters
with his counsellors, and announces that lightnings have flashed from the
altars of Siva, and that the gods have demanded that the hostage must
suffer in the absence of Sayid. Ilmas bids her attendants array her in
bridal robes, and in the next scene appears in an open space near the
city gate, surrounded by the court retinue and soldiers, and accompanied
by her maidens, strewing flowers in her path. Ilmas is led to the centre
of the space and kneels down, the executioner standing over her and
awaiting the signal to be given by the watchman when the sun sets. Before
that time comes the latter excitedly announces the rapid approach of an
Arab horseman. While the crowd stand eagerly waiting his arrival, Sayid
gallops through the gateway and presents himself to the Prince. He then
turns to Ilmas, who warmly receives him, and affirms that whatever fate
may overtake him she shall always cherish his memory. Sâwa relents, bids
the Arab live and be his friend, and we infer the happiness of the lovers
from the invocation of "Love the Conqueror," which brings the Damon and
Pythias story, to a close.

A very brief orchestral prelude introduces the opening chorus with
solos:--

"Alas! our land is desolate,
The children cry for bread;
Around, fierce fire and sword devour,
Our women wail their dead.

"We pray for vengeance on the foe,
To death consign them all;
Siva, arise and fight for us,
Or see thine altars fall."

As the expressive chorus comes to a close, an allegro movement leads to a
dialogue between the people and the watchman, and subsequently with the
horseman, who announces the approach of the victorious army, followed by
a second chorus of the people invoking Siva ("Vishnu, Vishnu, thou hast
heard our Cry!"). The scene is very dramatic throughout, and is
accompanied by vigorous and suggestive music. The next number is a
triumphal march, remarkable for its local color, and gradually increasing
in power and effect as the army approaches the city. It is followed by an
excited dialogue between Sâwa and Sayid, with choral responses, and leads
up to a beautiful melody for Sayid:--

"Where sets the sun adown the crimson west
My native valley lies;
There by a gentle stream that murmurs rest
My father's tents arise.

"Fearing no harm, the happy peasant tills,
The woolly flocks increase;
The shepherd's pipe is heard upon the hills,
And all around is peace."

Another dramatic scene follows, in which Sâwa consents to Sayid's return
to his father, and accepts Ilmas as his bondswoman, which leads to a very
spirited and elaborate melody for the latter ("First of his Prophet's
Warriors he"). The first part closes with the departure of Sayid and a
repetition of the choral invocation of Siva.

The second part opens in an apartment of Sâwa's palace, and discloses
Ilmas sitting with her maidens, as a thunderstorm dies away in the
distance. The latter join in a graceful chorus, which is one of the most
beautiful numbers in the cantata:--

"Sweet the balmy days of spring,
And blushing roses that they bring;
But sweeter far is love."

Ilmas answers them in a broad and exultant strain ("Ay, sweet indeed is
Love"). As the song ends, Sâwa and attendants enter, and the scene closes
with a very dramatic chorus and solos, accompanying the preparations for
death. The second scene opens with a solemn march for orchestra,
preparing the way for the climax, and leading up to a chorus and solo for
Ilmas ("What have these Sounds to do with bridal Robes?"). As she kneels,
awaiting her fate, an orchestral interlude, set to the rhythm of the
gallop, indicates the rapid approach of Sayid. A short and agitated
dialogue follows between the watchman and the people. Sayid declares his
presence, and a graceful duet with Ilmas ensues ("Noble Maiden, low
before thee Sayid bows"), leading to a powerful choral finale ("Never
before was known a Deed like this"), closing with a stirring outburst for
all the voices:--

"O Love, thy car triumphal
Rolls round the subject world
More glorious than the chariot
Of the sun.

"We hail thee, Love victorious!
Ride on with strength divine,
And quench all mortal passion
In thine own."

Jubilee Ode.[29]

This work, upon which Dr. Mackenzie has been engaged for some time past,
is now complete, and on its way to several distant parts of the Empire,
where arrangements are making to perform it in celebration of the
Jubilee. Primarily, as our readers know, the Ode was intended for the
Crystal Palace only, but it will be given also in Canada, Australia,
Trinidad, Cape Colony, etc.; thus standing out from all its fellows as in
some sort an Imperial work.

Without anticipating the criticism which will follow upon performance, we
may here give some idea of the scope and character of the Ode. Mr. Joseph
Bennett, the writer of the words, has kept strictly in view the
exigencies of a musical setting. He has obviously prepared, not a short
poem for readers, but one for musical hearers. Hence a variety of rhythm
and structure which otherwise would certainly not have been ventured
upon. From the same cause arises also the manner in which the subject is
laid out, with a view to contrast of musical effect. We may indicate the
nature of this arrangement. In the first vocal number, a chorus, the news
of the Jubilee is proclaimed, and its diffusion throughout the Empire
called for. The second number, a tenor solo, conveys to the Queen the
affectionate greetings of her home-lands, declaring that, to keep the
feast with unanimity, all weapons of party warfare are laid aside. In the
third number the Colonies and Dependencies pay their homage, the idea
worked out being that of a procession passing before the throne. First
comes the Dominion, followed by Australia, the smaller colonies and
islands, and, lastly, by India. Each of these divisions has a section of
the chorus to itself. The fifth number, a soprano solo, dwells upon the
personal virtues of the Sovereign; while the sixth, and last, opening
with a choral prayer for the Empire, continues with lines leading to the
National Anthem, for which a new second verse has been written. How far
the writer has been guided by consideration for musical opportunities
need not, after this outline sketch, be indicated. The spirit in which
Mr. Bennett has approached his theme best appears, perhaps, in the
opening verses:--

"For fifty years our Queen!
Victoria! hail!
Take up the cry, glad voices,
And pass the strain
O'er hill and plain,
Peaceful hamlet, roaring city, flowing river,
Till all the land rejoices.
Wild clanging bells and thund'rous cannon
With your loudest shock the air, and make it quiver
From Dee to Tamar, Thames to Shannon.

"For fifty years our Queen!
Victoria! hail!
Take up the cry, old ocean,
And hoarsely shout
The words about.
British ships and world-wide British lands will cheer them,
Rouse an Empire's full devotion.
O blowing wind, come hither, bearing
Answering voices, loud acclaiming. Hark! we hear them.
They our loyal pride are sharing."

In setting the words to music, Dr. Mackenzie has necessarily to consider
the place of performance and the number of performers. This, however, was
an amiable and fortunate obligation, since the result has been to give us
a work built upon broad lines, and marked by plainness of structure to an
extent unusual with the composer. We think that the music will be found
to have a true festive ring, and a majestic solidity befitting the
occasion. In the solos, with their more subdued expression, Dr. Mackenzie
has kept contrast in view, without sacrifice of simplicity; but it is in
the choruses that he best shows himself a master of bold and striking
effects. Every bar goes straight to the point, while avoiding the
commonplaces that naturally suggest themselves in the writing of festive
music. The procession chorus is, in this respect, most noteworthy of all,
and may be found no mean rival of that in the "Rose of Sharon."

[29] As the score of Mr. Mackenzie's Ode has not yet reached this
country, the author has taken the liberty of transferring the above
analysis of it to his work from the London "Musical Times" for May,
1887. Although its local character may preclude its performance here,
it is not improbable that the composition of a composer so eminent
will attract attention among American musicians.

MASSENET.

Jules Émile Frédéric Massenet, a composer as yet but little known in this
country, was born at Montaud, France, May 12, 1842. His musical education
was obtained in the Paris Conservatory, in which between the years 1859
and 1863 he carried off two first prizes and one second. After leaving
the Conservatory, he went to Italy for a time and pursued his studies in
composition. On his return to Paris one of his operas, "La Grand Tante,"
was produced at the Opéra Comique (1867) through the influence of
Ambroise Thomas, and this performance called attention to the works of
the rising young musician. In 1872 he brought out "Don Cæsar de Bazan,"
an opéra comique in three acts, and in the following year incidental
music to the tragedy "Les Erinnyes," after Æschylus. Among his works
written since that time are "Le Roi de Lahore" (1877); "Herodiade"
(1882); "Manon" (1885); "Le Cid" (1885); the cantata "Paix et Liberté"
(1867); "Marie Magdaleine" (1873); "Eve," a mystery (1875); "La Vierge,"
sacred legend; and "Narcisse," antique idylle (1878). Among his
orchestral works the best known are "Suites d'orchestre;" "Scenes
Hongroises;" "Scenes Pittoresques;" "Scenes Dramatiques;" overture
"Phèdre;" and "Pompeia," fantasia-symphony. He has also written numerous
songs and piano-forte pieces. His operas thus far have been his most
successful works, though several of his large concert pieces have been
very favorably received. He now occupies a position in the Paris
Conservatory, and is regarded as one of the most promising members of the
modern French school.

Mary Magdalen.

"Mary Magdalen" was written in 1873, and was first performed at the
Odéon, Paris, in that year, with Mmes. Viardot and Vidal and MM. Bosquin
and Petit in the solo parts. It is styled by its composer a sacred drama,
and is divided into three acts, the first entitled "The Magdalen at the
Fountain;" the second, "Jesus before the Magdalen;" the third,
"Golgotha," "The Magdalen at the Cross," and "The Tomb of Jesus and the
Resurrection;" the first two scenes in the last act being included in one
tableau, and the third in another. The characters represented are Mary
Magdalen, Martha, Jesus, and Judas, the chorus parts being assigned to
the Disciples, Pharisees, Scribes, publicans, soldiers, servants, holy
women, and people.

After a short introduction, pastoral in character, the work begins with a
scene representing Mary at the fountain of Magdala near sunset, among
women, publicans, Scribes, and Pharisees, strolling along the banks of
the little stream that flows from it. The women sing a short chorus full
of Oriental color anticipating the approach of the beautiful Nazarene. A
group of young Magdalens pass along singing blithely of love and gay
cavaliers ("C'est l'heure où conduisant de longues Caravanes"), and the
song of the women blends with it. Next follows a chorus of the Scribes,
discussing this Stranger, and pronouncing Him an impostor, and again the
young Magdalens take up their strain. The second number is a pathetic
aria by Mary ("O mes Soeurs"), which is full of tender beauty. The women
shrink back from her and join in a taunting chorus ("La belle Pécheresse
oublie"). Next, Judas appears upon the scene, and servilely saluting Mary
counsels her to abandon sadness and return to love, in an aria which is a
good illustration of irony in music. It is followed by a powerful and
mocking chorus of women, Pharisees, and Scribes ("Vainement tu pleures"),
in which she is taunted with her shame, despite her sad appeals for pity.
The next scene is an aria and trio. Jesus appears in their midst, and in
a calm impressive aria ("Vous qui flétrissez les Erreurs des autres")
rebukes them. Mary prostrates herself at His feet and implores pardon,
and the scene closes with a trio for Jesus, Mary, and Judas, leading up
to a strong concerted finale closing the act, in which Jesus bids the
Magdalen rise and return to her home, whither He is about to repair.

The second act opens in the Magdalen's house, which is richly decorated
with flowers and redolent with perfume. It begins with a sensuous female
chorus ("Le Seuil est paré de Fleurs rares") followed by Martha's
admonition to the servants that He who is more powerful than earthly
kings cares not for vain shows. The chorus resumes its song, and at its
close Judas appears and a long dialogue follows in which Martha rebukes
his hypocrisy. As he departs, Mary and Martha in a very graceful duet
discourse of the Saviour's coming, which is interrupted by His presence
and invocation of blessing. After a duet between Jesus and Mary, in which
He commends her to the Good Shepherd, the act closes with a powerful and
very dramatic finale containing Jesus' rebuke to Judas and His
declaration of the coming betrayal, after which the Disciples join in a
simple but very effective prayer ("Notre Père, loué soit Nom radieux").

The third act is divided into two tableaux. In the first we have the
scene of the crucifixion, the agitated choruses of the groups about the
Cross, the mocking strains of the Pharisees bidding Him descend if He is
the Master, the sorrowing song of Mary ("O Bien-aimé sous la sombre
Couronne"), and the final tragedy. The second is devoted to the
resurrection and apparition, which are treated very dramatically, closing
with an exultant Easter hymn ("Christ est vivant, ressuscité").

In the first two acts the music is full of rich Oriental color and is
gracefully melodious and well adapted to the situation; but in the last
act the awful solemnity of the tragedy is somewhat lost in the theatrical
manner of its treatment. Indeed it was hardly necessary that the composer
should have disclaimed the title of oratorio which some have assigned to
the work. His division of it into acts and tableaux was sufficient to
indicate that he had the stage in mind when he was writing; or at least
that his scheme was operatic in style.

MENDELSSOHN.

Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, the son of a Berlin banker, was born at
Hamburg, Feb. 3, 1809, and, unlike almost all other composers, was reared
in the lap of luxury. He enjoyed every advantage which wealth could
procure, with the result that he became highly educated in the other arts
as well as in music. His teachers in music were Zelter and Ludwig Berger,
and he made such progress that in his ninth year he appeared in public as
a pianist in Berlin and afterwards in Paris. The first of his
compositions to attract general notice were the overture to Shakspeare's
"Midsummer Night's Dream" and the little opera "The Marriage of Camacho,"
which were brought out in Berlin in 1827. After several concert-tours, in
which he met with great success, he resided for some time in Düsseldorf.
In 1835 he went to Leipsic as director of the famous Gewandhaus
concerts,--which are still given in that city. Two years later he married
Cécile Jeanrenaud, the beautiful daughter of a minister of the Reformed
Church in Frankfort, and shortly afterwards went to Berlin as general
director of church music. In 1843 he returned to his former post in
Leipsic, and also took a position in the newly established Conservatory,
where he spent the remainder of his days in company with his family, to
whom he was closely attached. He has left a large and rich collection of
musical works, which are favorites the world over. His three great
oratorios are the "Hymn of Praise," catalogued as a symphony-cantata,
"St. Paul," and "Elijah." Besides these oratorios, the exquisite music to
the "Midsummer Night's Dream," which is familiar the world over, and his
stately dramatic music to "Antigone," he has left five symphonies, of
which the "Scotch," the "Italian," and the "Reformation" are best known;
four beautiful overtures, "Ruy Blas," "Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage,"
"Hebrides," and "Melusina;" the very dramatic cantata, "The Walpurgis
Night;" a long list of songs for one or more voices; the incidental music
to Racine's "Athalia;" a very large collection of sacred music, such as
psalms, hymns, anthems, and cantatas; several trios and other specimens
of chamber music; and the lovely "Songs without Words," which are to be
found upon almost every piano, the beauty and freshness of which time has
not impaired. Mendelssohn never wrote a grand opera, owing to his
fastidiousness as to a libretto; though he finally obtained one from
Geibel on the subject of the "Loreley" which suited him. He had begun to
write it, and had finished the finale to the first act, when death
interrupted his work, Nov. 4, 1847. In addition to the subjoined
compositions selected for description, the following may be mentioned as
possessing the cantata characteristics: op. 31, the 115th Psalm, for
solo, chorus, and orchestra; op. 46, the 95th Psalm, for chorus and
orchestra; op. 51, the 114th Psalm, for double chorus and orchestra; op.
78, three Psalms for solo and chorus; op. 91, the 98th Psalm, for double
chorus and orchestra; and op. 96, Hymn ("Lass, O Herr mich") for alto
solo, chorus, and orchestra.

The Walpurgis Night.

It was during his Italian travels in 1831 that Mendelssohn composed the
music to Goethe's poem "The First Walpurgis Night." His letters throw
much and interesting light upon the composition and his ideas while
writing it. In a letter written at Rome, Feb. 22, 1831, he says:--

"Listen and wonder! Since I left Vienna I have partly composed Goethe's
'First Walpurgis Night,' but have not yet had courage to write it down.
The composition has now assumed a form and become a grand cantata, with
full orchestra, and may turn out well. At the opening there are songs
of spring, etc., and plenty others of the same kind. Afterwards, when
the watchmen with their 'Gabeln, und Zacken, und Eulen,' make a great
noise, the fairy frolics begin, and you know that I have a particular
foible for them; the sacrificial Druids then appear with their
trombones in C major, when the watchmen come in again in alarm; and
here I mean to introduce a light, mysterious, tripping chorus, and
lastly to conclude with a grand sacrificial hymn. Do you not think that
this might develop into a new style of cantata? I have an instrumental
introduction as a matter of course, and the effect of the whole is
spirited."

On the 27th of April ensuing he refers to it again:--

"I must however return to my witches, so you must forgive my not
writing any more to-day. This whole letter seems to hover in
uncertainty, or rather I do so in my 'Walpurgis Night,' whether I am to
introduce the big drum or not. 'Zacken, Gabeln, und wilde
Klapperstöcke' seem to force me to the big drum, but moderation
dissuades me. I certainly am the only person who ever composed for the
scene on the Brocken without employing a piccolo-flute, but I can't
help regretting the big drum; and before I can receive Fanny's[30]
advice, the 'Walpurgis Night' will be finished and packed up."

On his way back to Germany he writes from Milan, July 13, 1831, to the
artist and operatic director, Eduard Devrient:--

"I have been writing a large composition that perhaps will one day make
some effect,--'The First Walpurgis Night' of Goethe. I began it simply
because it pleased and excited me; I did not think of any performance.
But now that it is finished, I see that it is well suited for a large
concert piece, and in my first subscription concert in Berlin you shall
sing the bearded Druid,--the chorus sung by ----, kindly assisted by
----. I have written the part of the Druid into your throstle (by
permission), and you will have to sing it out again."

It was several years before the "Walpurgis Night" was publicly performed,
and meanwhile it underwent several changes. On the 28th of November,
1842, he writes to his mother:--

"I am really anxious to make the 'Walpurgis Night' into a
symphony-cantata, for which it was originally intended, but did not
become so from want of courage on my part."

On the 11th of December of the same year he writes her:--

"My 'Walpurgis Night' is to appear once more in the second part, in a
somewhat different garb indeed from the former one, which was somewhat
too richly endowed with trombones, and rather poor in the vocal parts;
but to effect this I have been obliged to re-write the whole score from
A to Z, and to add two new arias, not to mention the rest of the
clipping and cutting. If I don't like it now, I solemnly vow to give it
up for the rest of my life."

The cantata was first publicly performed in Leipsic, Feb. 2, 1843, at a
concert, in which it occupied the second part of the programme. It had to
stand a severe test of comparison, for the first part was very brilliant,
including a Haydn symphony, a Mozart aria, Beethoven's "Choral Fantasie,"
the piano part played by Madame Schumann, the overture from "Euryanthe,"
and the chorus from Weber's "Lyre and Sword;" but it made a success, and
was received with great enthusiasm.

The subject of the cantata is a very simple one. The witches of the
Northern mythology were supposed to hold their revels on the summit of
the Brocken on the eve of the 1st of May (Walpurgis Night), and the
details of their wild and infernal "Sabbath" are familiar to every reader
of "Faust." In his separate poem Goethe seeks to go back to the origin of
the first Walpurgis Night. May-day eve was consecrated to Saint
Walpurgis, who converted the Saxons from Druidism to Christianity, and on
that night the evil spirits were said to be abroad. Goethe conceived the
idea that the Druids on that night betook themselves to the mountains to
celebrate their rites without interference from the Christians,
accomplishing their purpose by disguising their sentinels as demons, who,
when the Christians approached, ran through the woods with torches,
clashed their arms, uttered hideous noises, and thus frightened them
away, leaving the Druids free to finish their sacrifices.

The cantata begins with an overture in two movements, an _allegro con
fuoco_ and an _allegro vivace_, which describes in vivid tone-colors the
passing of the season from winter to spring. The first number is a tenor
solo and chorus of Druids, which are full of spring feeling, rising to
religious fervor in the close:--

"Now May again
Breaks winter's chain,
The buds and bloom are springing;
No snow is seen,
The vales are green,
The woodland choirs are singing!
Yon mountain height
Is wintry white;
Upon it we will gather,--
Begin the ancient holy rite;
Praise our Almighty Father."

The next number is an alto solo, the warning of an aged woman of the
people, which is very dramatic in its style:--

"Know ye not a deed so daring
Dooms us all to die despairing?
Know ye not it is forbidden
By the edicts of our foemen?"

The warning is followed by a stately exhortation from the Druid priest
("The man who flies our sacrifice"), leading up to a short chorus of a
very stirring character in which the Druids resolve to go on with their
rites. It is followed by a pianissimo chorus of the guards whispering to
each other to "secure the passes round the glen." One of them suggests
the demon scheme for frightening the enemy, which leads to the chorus:--

"Come with torches brightly flashing;
Rush along with billets clashing;
Through the night-gloom lead and follow,
In and out each rocky hollow.
Owls and ravens,
Howl with us and scare the cravens."

In this chorus the composer has given the freest rein to his fancy, and
presents the weird scene in a grotesque chaos of musical effects, both
vocal and instrumental, which may fairly be called infernal, and yet
preserves form and rhythm throughout. It is followed by an exalted and
impressive hymn for bass solo and chorus, which is a relief after the
diablerie of the preceding number:--

"Restrained by might
We now by night
In secret here adore Thee.
Still it is day
Whene'er we pray,
And humbly bow before Thee.
Thou canst assuage
Our foemen's rage
And shield us from their terrors.
The flame aspires!
The smoke retires!
Thus clear our faith from errors!
Our customs quelled,
Our rights withheld,
Thy light shall shine forever."

Following this impressive hymn comes the terrified warning of the
Christian guard (tenor) and the response of his equally terrified
comrades:--

"Help, my comrades! see a legion
Yonder comes from Satan's region!
See yon group of witches gliding
To and fro in flames advancing;
Some on wolves and dragons riding,
See, ah, see them hither prancing!
What a clattering troop of evil!
Let us, let us quickly fly them!
Imp and devil
Lead the revel;
See them caper,
Wrapt in clouds of lurid vapor."

As the Christians disappear, scared by the demon _ruse_, the Druids once
more, led by their priest, resume their rites, closing with another
choral hymn of praise similar in style to the first.

[30] His sister.

Antigone.

Mendelssohn wrote incidental music to four great dramas,--the "Antigone"
of Sophocles (1841); the "Oedipus at Colonos" of Sophocles (1843); the
"Athalia" of Racine (1843); and the "Midsummer Night's Dream" of
Shakspeare (1843), the overture to which was written by him in 1826. The
latter is mainly instrumental. Of the other three, the music to
"Antigone" and "Oedipus" is most frequently performed, and for that
reason has been selected for description.

In June, 1841, the King of Saxony invited Mendelssohn to become his
Capellmeister. Frederick William IV. of Prussia had made him a similar
offer about the same time. He accepted the latter and removed to Berlin,
and the first duty imposed upon him by the King was the composition of
music to the "Antigone" of Sophocles. With the assistance of the poet
Tieck, who helped arrange the text, the work was accomplished in the
short space of eleven days, and was given on the Potsdam Court stage
October 28, to a private audience. It was first performed in public at
Leipsic, March 5, 1842. It is written for male chorus and orchestra, and
includes seven numbers; namely, 1. Introduction and maestoso ("Strahl des
Helios schönstes Licht"); 2. Andante con moto ("Vieles Gewaltige lebt");
3. Moderato ("Ihr Seligen deren"); 4. Adagio ("O Eros, Allsieger im
Kampf"); 5. Recitative and chorus ("Noch toset des Sturmes Gewalt"); 6.
Allegro maestoso ("Vielnamiger! Wonn' und Stolz"); 7. Andante alla marcia
("Hier Kommt er ja selbst").

The following extracts will give a comprehensive view of this powerful
and felicitous music. Lampadius, writing of the first public performance,
says:--

"On the 5th of March the 'Antigone' of Sophocles, translated by Donner
and set to music by Mendelssohn, was brought out at the Leipsic theatre
before a full audience. The composer directed, and was received with
great applause. The music indeed was not antique, if to be so it must
be played on the {syrinx}, the {salpinx}, and the {phorminx}, or if the
composer must confine himself to that Greek type of melody and harmony
of which all we know is that it was extremely simple, and, according to
our ideas, meagre; but it was antique completely, in its being filled
with the fire of the tragedy and making its spirit intelligible to us
moderns, strengthening the meaning of the words, and giving a running
musical commentary on them.... With us at Leipsic, as indeed
everywhere, the Eros Chorus, with its solemn awe in the presence of the
divine omnipotence of love, and the Bacchus Chorus, which, swinging the
thyrsus, celebrates the praise of the Theban maiden's son in joyous
strains, as well as the melodramatic passages, where Antigone enters,
wailing, the chamber where her dead lover lay, and whither Creon has
borne in his son's corpse, had an imposing effect. The impression of
the whole piece, taken by itself, was very powerful. With amazement our
modern world realized the sublimity of the ancient tragic muse, and
recognized the 'great, gigantic fate which exalts man while grinding
him to powder.'"

Devrient, the director of the opera at Carlsruhe, in his "Recollections
of Mendelssohn," has left a delightful sketch of the composition of the
work. He says:--

"Felix did not enter upon his task without the fullest consideration.
The first suggestion was to set the chorus in unison throughout, and to
recitative interspersed with solos; and as nearly as possible to intone
or recite the words, with accompaniment of such instruments only as may
be supposed in character with the time of Sophocles,--flutes, tubas,
and harps, in the absence of lyres. I opposed to this plan that the
voice parts would be intolerably monotonous, without the compensatory
clearness of the text being attained....

"Nevertheless Felix made the attempt to carry out this view, but after
a few days he confessed to me that it was impracticable; that I was
right in maintaining the impossibility of making the words clear in
choral singing, except in a few places that are obviously suited for
recitative;[31] that the chanting of a chorus would be vexatiously
monotonous, tedious, and unmusical; and that accompaniments for so few
instruments would give so little scope for variety of expression that
it would make the whole appear as a mere puerile imitation of the
ancient music, about which, after all, we knew nothing. He concluded
therefore that the choruses must be sung, as the parts must be recited,
not to assimilate themselves with the usages of Attic tragedy (which
might easily lead us into absurdity) but as we would now express
ourselves in speech and song.... With this I fully concurred; and Felix
set, so vigorously to work, that in a few weeks he played me sketches,
and by the end of September nearly the whole chain of choruses was
completed. Besides my delight at the beauty of these choruses, they
confirmed me in the certainty that Felix's genius was eminently
dramatic. They not only gave the key to every scene, the expression to
each separate verse, from the narrow complacency of the Theban citizens
to their heartful and exalted sympathy, but also a dramatic accent
soaring far beyond the words of the poet. I allude particularly to the
dithyrambus that occurs between Creon's attempt to rescue Antigone and
the relation of its terrible failure. This song of praise really
consists entirely of glorifying appeals to Bacchus, and its dramatic
application lies only in the verse:--

'She was its pride,
Who, clasping the Thunderer, died;
And now, seeking its lost repose,
We pray thee to come and heal its woes.
Oh, hither bend;
From thy Parnassian heights descend.'

"To raise this chorus to be the terrible turning-point of the action;
to bring here to its culmination the tension excited by the awful
impending doom; to give this continually gathering power to the
invocation, 'Hear us, Bacchus!' till it becomes a cry of agony; to give
this exhaustive musical expression to the situation, marks the composer
to have a specially dramatic gift. And this is betokened no less in the
melodramatic portions. The idea of adding rhythmical accompaniments to
spoken words may have been suggested by a few well-set passages in the
music to 'Faust' by Prince Radziwill. It is to be regretted that the
public is scarcely able to appreciate how exquisitely Mendelssohn has
done this, since the representatives of Antigone and of Creon are
seldom sufficiently musical to enter completely into the composer's
intention; besides that in two passages of the accompanied dialogue of
Antigone the words are not correctly set under the music."

Of the private performance before the King and Court, Oct. 28, 1841, the
same writer says:--

"We had two more rehearsals on the following day, the evening one in
the presence of the King, and the performance itself took place on the
28th, before the Court and all the invited celebrities of art and
science. It produced a very great sensation. The deep impression that
the revival of an ancient tragedy could produce in our theatrical life
promised to become an influence; it has purified our musical
atmosphere, and it is certain that to Mendelssohn must be ascribed
great and important merit in the cause.

"Although the learned, of whom each expected the ancient tragedy to be
put upon the stage according to his peculiar conception of it (which
would of course be totally different in every case) might find the
music too modern, too operatic, in fact, not sufficiently philological,
it is undeniable that Mendelssohn's music has made the tragedy of
Sophocles accessible to the sympathies of the general public, without
in any wise violating the spirit and aroma of the poem, but rather
lending it new life and intelligibility."

[31] The passages, "But see, the son of Menoetius comes," etc., and "See,
Hæmon appears," etc., are examples.

Oedipus at Colonos.

The story of "Oedipus Tyrannus" is told in this work in connection with
Professor Paine's composition. The "Oedipus at Colonos," to which
Mendelssohn set music, is the continuation of Sophocles' tragedy,
describing the banishment of the blind hero, the loving care of his
daughters, his arrival at Attica, and his death in the gardens of the
Eumenides at Colonos, absolved by the fate which had so cruelly pursued
him.

The music to "Oedipus" was written at the command of the King of Prussia
in 1843, and was first produced at Potsdam, Nov. 1, 1845. It contains a
short introduction and nine choral numbers. The first and second choruses
describe the entrance of Oedipus and Antigone into the grove of the
Eumenides, their discovery by the people, the story of his sorrows which
he relates to them, his meeting with his daughter Ismene, and the arrival
of Theseus the King. The third number is the gem of the work, and is
often given on the concert-stage. The free translation of the text for
this beautiful double chorus is as follows:--

"_Strophe_.--Thou hast come, O stranger, to the seats of this land,
renowned for the steed; to seats the fairest on earth, the chalky
Colonos; where the vocal nightingale, chief abounding, trills her
plaintive note in the green dells, tenanting the dark-hued ivy and the
leafy grove of the god, untrodden, teeming with fruits, impervious to
the sun, and unshaken by the winds of every storm; where Bacchus, the
reveller, ever roams attending his divine nurses.

"_Antistrophe_.--And ever day by day the narcissus, with its beauteous
clusters, bursts into bloom by heaven's dew, the ancient coronet of the
mighty goddesses, and the saffron with golden ray; nor do the sleepless
founts of Cephisus that wander through the fields fail, but ever each
day it rushes o'er the plains with its limpid wave, fertilizing the
bosom of the earth; nor have the choirs of the muses loathed this
clime; nor Venus, too, of the golden reign.

"_Strophe_.--And there is a tree, such as I hear not to have ever
sprung in the land of Asia, nor in the mighty Doric island of Pelops, a
tree unplanted by hand, of spontaneous growth, terror of the hostile
spear, which flourishes chiefly in this region, the leaf of the pale
gray olive that nourishes our young. This shall neither any one in
youth nor in old age, marking for destruction, and having laid it waste
with his hand, bring to nought; for the eye that never closes of Morian
Jove regards it, and the blue-eyed Minerva.

"_Antistrophe_.--And I have other praise for this mother-city to tell,
the noblest gift of the mighty divinity, the highest vaunt, that she is
the great of chivalry, renowned for the steed and famous on the main;
for thou, O sovereign Neptune, son of Saturn, hast raised her to this
glory, having first, in these fields, founded the bit to tame the
horse; and the well-rowed boat, dashed forth by the hand, bounds
marvellously through the brine, tracking on the hundred-footed
daughters of Nereus."

The first strophe is begun by one choir in unison after a short but
graceful introduction which is repeated at the end of the strophe in
another form, and then the second choir begins the antistrophe, set to
the same beautiful melody. At its close the music changes in character
and grows vigorous and excited as the first choir sings the second
strophe, with which shortly the second choir joins in splendid eight-part
harmony. The latter takes up the strain again in the second antistrophe,
singing the praise of "the mother-city," and the number closes with the
united invocation to Neptune,--an effect which has hardly been excelled
in choral music. The fourth chorus, which is very dramatic in its effect,
tells of the assault of Creon upon Oedipus, and the fifth, his protection
by Theseus, who comes to the rescue. In this number the double choirs
unite with magnificent effect in the appeal to the gods ("Dread Power,
that fillest Heaven's high Throne") to defend Theseus in the conflict.
The sixth number ("When the Health and Strength are gone") is a pathetic
description of the blind hero's pitiful condition, and prepares the way
for the powerful choruses in which his impending fate is foreshadowed by
the thunderbolts of Jove which rend the heavens. The eighth and ninth
choruses are full of the mournful spirit of the tragedy itself, and tell
in notes as eloquent as Sophocles' lines of the mysterious disappearance
of the Theban hero, ingulfed in the opening earth, and the sorrowful
lamentations of the daughters for the father whom they had served and
loved so devotedly.

As the Hart Pants.

The music to the Forty-second Psalm, familiarly known by the caption
which forms the title of this sketch, was first performed at the tenth
subscription Gewandhaus concert in Leipsic in 1838, Clara Novello taking
the soprano part. Though not constructed upon the large scale of the
"Hymn of Praise," or even of the "Walpurgis Night," it is a work which is
thoroughly artistic, and just as complete and symmetrical in its way. It
contains seven numbers. After a slow and well-sustained introduction, the
work begins with a chorus ("As the Hart pants after the Water Brooks, so
panteth my soul for Thee, O God") which is a veritable prayer in its
tenderness and expression of passionate longing. After the chorus a
delicate and refined soprano solo ("For my Soul thirsteth for God")
continues the sentiment, first given out in an oboe solo, and then
uttered by the voice in a beautifully melodious adagio. The third number
is a soprano recitative ("My Tears have been my Meat") leading to a
chorus in march time by the sopranos and altos ("For I had gone with the
Multitude; I went with them to the House of God"). Then follows a full
chorus beginning with male voices in unison ("Why, my Soul, art thou cast
down?"), answered by the female voices ("Trust thou in God"). Again the
soprano voice is heard in pathetic recitative ("O my God! my Soul is cast
down within me; all Thy Waves and thy Billows are gone over me"). A
beautiful quartet of male voices with string accompaniment replies: "The
Lord will command His Loving-kindness in the Day-time; and in the Night
His Song shall be with me, and my Prayer unto the God of my Life." The
response is full of hope and consolation; but through it all runs the
mournful strain of the soprano (forming a quintet at the end), coming to
a close only when the full chorus joins in a repetition of the fourth
number ("Trust thou in God"), this time elaborated with still greater
effect, and closing with a stately ascription of praise to the God of
Israel.

The Gutenberg Fest-Cantata.

The occasion for which the short festival cantata known as the
"Gutenberg" was written, was the fourth centennial celebration of the art
of printing, which was observed at Leipsic in 1840 by the unveiling of
Gutenberg's statue in the public square, and other ceremonies. The
direction of the musical part of the festivity was intrusted to
Mendelssohn. The text for the hymn to be sung at the unveiling, which
occurred on the morning of June 24, immediately after the public service
in Church, was furnished by Adolphus Prölsz, a teacher in the Gymnasium
at Freiberg. Lampadius, in his Life of Mendelssohn, says of the
performance:--

"Mendelssohn arranged it with trombone accompaniment. When the opening
words, 'Fatherland! within thy Confines broke the dawning Light,'--so
the opening ran, if my memory is correct,--were heard in the Music Hall
at the first rehearsal, the heartiest applause arose among the
performers as well as the invited guests. Nothing so simple, powerful,
joyous, and unconstrained had been heard for a long time.... Many will
remember how, on the very day of the public performance, the slight
form of Mendelssohn was seen moving nervously around to find just the
right place for the trombonists, and how nearly he came to a fall from
the platform. During that performance the singers were divided into two
choirs, which sat at some distance from each other; one of them was
conducted by David, and the other by Mendelssohn."

The cantata opens with a stately chorale ("With solemn Hymn of Praise")
set to the old tune "Honor to God alone," followed by the song in memory
of Gutenberg ("Fatherland! within thy Confines"), which has been
separately arranged and printed as a solo. The third number is a quick,
spirited movement for tenors ("And God said, 'Let there be Light'")
followed by another effective chorale ("Now, thank God all"), which
brings the work to a close. On the afternoon of the same day
Mendelssohn's much more important work, "The Hymn of Praise," was given.
A sketch of this has already appeared in the "Standard Oratorios."

Lauda Sion.

The "Lauda Sion," or sequence sung at High Mass on the Feast of Corpus
Christi, was chosen by Mendelssohn as the subject of one of his most
beautiful cantatas, for four solo voices, chorus, and orchestra. The
majestic rhythm of Saint Thomas Aquinas's verses loses none of its
stateliness in this musical setting. The work was composed for the
celebration of this Festival by the Church of St. Martin at Liège, and
was first performed there June 11, 1846. Chorley, the English critic who
accompanied Mendelssohn on that occasion, has left us in his "Modern
German Music" an interesting sketch of its first production. He says:--

"The early summer of 1846 was a great year for the Rhine Land and its
adjacent district; since there the Lower Rhenish Festival at
Aix-la-Chapelle was conducted by Mendelssohn, and starred by Mlle.
Jenny Lind; and within a fortnight afterwards was celebrated at Liège
the 'Fête Dieu,' for which his 'Lauda Sion' was written....

"It was a pity that those who had commissioned such a composer to write
such a work had so entirely miscalculated their means of presenting it
even respectably. The picturesque old Church of St. Martin is one of
those buildings which swallow up all sound, owing to the curve of the
vaults and the bulk of the piers; the orchestra was little more
powerful, when heard from below, than the distant scraping of a
Christmas serenade far down the street; the chorus was toneless, and
out of tune; and only one solo singer, the soprano, was even tolerable.
On arriving at Liège with the purpose of conducting his work,
Mendelssohn gave up the matter in despair. 'No! it is not good, it
cannot go well, it will make a bad noise,' was his greeting to us....

"We drove with him that afternoon up to St. Martin's Church, to hear,
as he merrily styled it, 'the execution of his music.' The sight of the
steep, narrow, winding street, decked out with fir-trees and banners
and the escutcheons of the different towns of Belgium, pleased him, for
he was as keen a lover of a show as a child, and had a true artist's
quick sense of the picturesque....

"Not envy's self could have helped being in pain for its composer, so
slack and tuneless and ineffective was the execution of this clear and
beautiful work, by a scrannel orchestra, and singers who could hardly
be heard, and who evidenced their nationality by resolutely holding
back every movement. But in the last verse, _alla breve_--

'Ecce panis angelorum'--

there came a surprise of a different quality. It was scenically
accompanied by an unforeseen exposition of the Host, in a gorgeous gilt
tabernacle, that slowly turned above the altar, so as to reveal the
consecrated elements to the congregation. Incense was swung from
censers, and the evening sun, breaking in with a sudden brightness,
gave a fairy-like effect to the curling fumes as they rose; while a
very musical bell, that timed the movement twice in a bar, added its
charm to the rite. I felt a quick grasp on my wrist, as Mendelssohn
whispered to me, eagerly, 'Listen! how pretty that is! it makes amends
for all their bad playing and singing,--and I shall hear the rest
better some other time.' That other time I believe never came for the
composer of the 'Lauda Sion,'--since this was only the year before his
death."

The work is composed in seven numbers. After a short introduction the
voices give out the theme, "Lauda Sion," followed by a chorus, "Laudis
Thema," full of devotional spirit. The soprano then enunciates in the
"Sit Laus plena" phrases repeated by the chorus, followed by a
beautifully accompanied quartet, "In hac Mensa." The fifth number is a
solemn chorale in unison, leading to a soprano solo in the arioso style,
"Caro cibus," which is exquisitely beautiful. The work concludes with a
very dramatic solo and chorus, "Sumit unus," set to the words "Bone
pastor," and the closing verses of the hymn itself. Short as the cantata
is, it is one of the most felicitous of all Mendelssohn's settings of the
ritual.

MOZART.

Johann Chrysostomus Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, one of the most remarkable
of musical geniuses, and the only one of his contemporaries whose operas
still hold the stage with unimpaired freshness, was born at Salsburg,
Jan. 27, 1756. He was the son of Leopold Mozart, the Salzburgian
Vice-Capellmeister, who gave him and his sister Nannerl their earliest
instruction in music, and with such good results that the children
travelled and gave concerts with great success. Before he was seven years
of age he had composed several pieces for piano and violin, his earliest
having been written at the age of five. At twelve he became court
capellmeister in Salzburg. After his musical travels he went to Vienna,
and there began his period of classic activity, which commenced with
"Idomeneus," reached its culmination in "Don Giovanni," and closed with
the "Requiem,"--the "swan-song" of his wonderful career. In his brief
life Mozart composed more than fifty great works, besides hundreds of
minor ones in every possible form of musical writing. His greatest
compositions may be classed in the following order: "Idomeneus" (1780);
"Entführung aus dem Serail" (1781); "Figaro's Hochzeit" ("The Marriage of
Figaro"), (1785); "Don Giovanni" (1787); "Cosi fan Tutti," "Zauberflöte"
("The Magic Flute"), and "Titus" (1790); and the "Requiem" (1791, the
year of his death). The catalogue of Mozart's works is an immense one,
for his period of productivity was unusually long. From the age of five
to his death there was not a year that was not crowded with his music.
Besides his numerous operas, of which only the more famous are given
above, he wrote a large number of symphonies (of which the "Jupiter" is
now the best known), sonatas, concertos, for all kinds of instruments,
even to musical-glasses, trios, quartets, quintets, and sextets for all
possible combinations of instruments, marches, fugues, masses, hymns,
arias of extraordinary brilliancy, liturgies, cantatas, songs and
ballads, and indeed every form of music that is now known. His style was
studied by Beethoven, and so closely imitated that the music of his first
period, if published without autograph, would readily be attributed to
Mozart. His style was so spontaneous and characteristic that it has been
well said there is but one Mozart. The distinguishing trait of his music
is its rich melodic beauty and its almost ravishing sweetness. His melody
pours along in a bright unbroken stream that sometimes even overflows its
banks, so abundant is it. It is peculiarly the music of youth and
spring-time, exquisite in form, graceful in technique, and delightful in
expression. It was the source where all his immediate successors went for
their inspiration, though it lacked the maturity, majesty, and emotional
depths which were reached by such a Titan as Beethoven. Old as it is, and
antiquated in form, especially as compared with the work of the new
schools, its perennial freshness, grace, and beauty have made it
immortal.

King Thamos.

The historical drama, "Thamos, King of Egypt," was written by Freiherr
von Gebler. Otto Jahn, in his Life of Mozart, gives the following sketch
of its story:--

"Menes, King of Egypt, has been deposed by a usurper, Rameses, and, as
it is thought, assassinated; but he is living, under the name of
Sethos, as high priest of the Temple of the Sun, the secret being known
only to the priest Hammon and the general Phanes. After the death of
Rameses, his son Thamos is heir to the throne. The day arrives when
Thamos attains majority, is to be invested with the diadem, and to
select a bride. The friends of Menes seek in vain to persuade him to
dispute the throne. He will not oppose the noble youth, whom he loves
and esteems. But Pheron, a prince and confidant of Thamos, has, in
conjunction with Mirza, the chief of the Virgins of the Sun, organized
a conspiracy against Thamos, and won over a portion of the army.
Tharsis, daughter of Menes, who is believed by all, even her father, to
be dead, has been brought up by Mirza under the name of Sais. It is
arranged that she shall be proclaimed rightful heir to the throne, and,
as she will then have the right to choose her consort, Mirza will
secure her beforehand for Pheron. When she discovers that Sais loves
Thamos, and he her, she induces Sais to believe that Thamos prefers her
playmate Myris, and Sais is generous enough to sacrifice her love and
her hopes of the throne to her friend. Equally nobly Thamos rejects all
suspicions against Pheron, and awards him supreme command. As the time
for action draws near, Pheron discloses to Sethos, whom he takes for a
devoted follower of Menes, and consequently for an enemy to Thamos, the
secret of Sais' existence and his own plans. Sethos prepares secretly
to save Thamos. Sais also, after being pledged to silence by an oath,
is initiated into the secret by Mirza and Pheron, and directed to
choose Pheron. She declines to give a decided answer, and Pheron
announces to Mirza his determination to seize the throne by force in
case of extremity. Sais, who believes herself not loved by Thamos, and
will not therefore choose him as consort, but will not deprive him of
the throne, takes the solemn and irrevocable oath as Virgin of the Sun.
Thamos enters, and they discover, to their sorrow, their mutual love.
Sethos, entering, enlightens Thamos as to the treachery of Pheron,
without disclosing the parentage of Sais. Pheron, disturbed by the
report that Menes is still living, comes to take council of Sethos, and
adheres to his treacherous design. In solemn assembly Thamos is about
to be declared king, when Mirza reveals the fact that Sais is the lost
Tharsis, and heiress to the throne. Thamos is the first to offer her
his homage. When she is constrained to choose between Thamos and Pheron
she declares herself bound by her oath, and announces Thamos as the
possessor of the throne. Then Pheron calls his followers to arms, but
Sethos steps forward and discloses himself as Menes; whereupon all fall
at his feet in joyful emotion. Pheron is disarmed and led off; Mirza
stabs herself; Menes, as father and ruler, releases Sais from her oath,
unites her with Thamos, and places the pair on the throne. A message
arrives that Pheron has been struck with lightning by Divine judgment,
and the piece ends."

To this drama Mozart composed the incidental music in 1779 and 1780 at
Salzburg, where it was produced under Böhm and Shickaneder's direction.
The play did not keep the stage long. Mozart refers to this circumstance
in a letter to his father, written Feb. 15, 1783:--

"I regret much not being able to make use of the music for 'Thamos,'
for not having pleased here, it is included among the tabooed pieces,
no longer to be performed. For the sake of the music alone it might
possibly be given again, but it is not likely. It is really a pity."

The music consists of five entr'actes and three choruses constructed in a
large and majestic style and specially adapted to ceremonial performance.
The first is a responsive chorus of maidens and priests ("Before thy
Light, Sun-god, thy Foe the Darkness takes Wing") sung in the temple of
the sun at Heliopolis. The second ("Godhead, throned in Power eternal")
is also sung in the temple before Thamos' coronation, at the beginning of
the fifth act, and contains short snatches of solos for a priest and
maiden, leading to a close in full harmony for the voices, and an
instrumental finale of soft music during which the priest offers
sacrifice upon the altar. The third opens with a majestic bass solo for
the high priest ("Ye Children of Dust, come, with Trembling, adore ye")
and closes with a stately strain for all the voices ("We Children of Dust
in our Reverence tremble").

Although the play was shelved, the music was not lost. Mozart
subsequently set the choruses to Latin and German words, and they were
adapted as hymns and motets for church use. They are now familiar to
musicians as "Splendente te Deus," "Deus tibi Laus et Honor," and "Ne
Pulvis et Cinis." Nohl says of them:--

"A certain solemnity pervades them such as few of his sacred works
possess, and an elevation of feeling only surpassed in the 'Flauto
Magico.' But the composer has relied on theatrical effect; and thus, in
spite of his graver intentions, we find more worldly pomp than
religious depth in these choruses, which Mozart worked out with all
love and care, even in their most minute details, and which manifest
the thoughtful mood that absorbed his soul."

Davidde Penitente.

The cantata "Davidde Penitente" was the outcome of a work of love. Before
his marriage with Constance Weber, Mozart vowed that when he brought her
to Salzburg as his wife he would write a mass for the occasion and have
it performed there. In a letter written to his father, Jan. 4, 1783, he
says: "As a proof of the fulfilment of this vow, the score of a
'half-mass' is now lying by, in hopes of some day being finished."
Holmes, in his admirable Life of Mozart, says:--

"To exercise his pen in the grand contrapuntal style of church music
was at all times agreeable to him; and he was now free from the local
restrictions under which he had written his numerous masses at
Salzburg, where neither the style, the length of the pieces, nor their
instrumentation was left to his own discretion; hence, making due
allowance for the effect of some few years in developing the composer's
genius, the great superiority of 'Davidde Penitente,' by which title
this mass was in the sequel better known over all the earlier masses,
as well for breadth of style as in true ecclesiastical solemnity."

The "half-mass" which Mozart brought to Salzburg in fulfilment of his vow
comprised only the Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus, and Benedictus. The remaining
numbers were supplied from another mass, and in this form the work was
produced at St. Peter's Church, Aug. 25, 1783, his wife taking the solo
part. The original work is described as exceedingly majestic and
beautiful, particularly the "Gratias" for five, and the "Qui Tollis" for
eight-voiced chorus. Jahn says of them that the same wonderful and
mysterious impression of the supernatural conveyed by the most beautiful
numbers in his Requiem characterizes these choruses.

The "half-mass" was destined to undergo still more radical changes. In
the spring of 1785 the committee of the society for the relief of the
widows and orphans of musicians at Vienna wished to celebrate their
annual festival with some new work, and commissioned Mozart to write a
cantata. As the time was very short, he took the Kyrie and Gloria of the
mass, set Italian words to them, and added four new numbers, in which
form it was produced under the title of "Davidde Penitente" at the
Burg-theatre, March 13, the solo singers being Fraulein Cavalieri,[32]
Fraulein Distler, and Herr Adamberger.[33] The cantata comprises ten
numbers. The first number is a chorus ("Alzai le flebile voci") taken
from the "Kyrie" of the mass; the second, an allegro chorus ("Cantiam le
lodi"), from the "Gloria;" the third, a soprano solo ("Lungi le cure"),
from the "Laudamus;" the fourth, an adagio chorus ("Sii pur sempre") from
the "Gratias;" the fifth, a very melodious soprano duet ("Sorgi o
Signore"), from the "Domine Deus;" the sixth, a beautiful tenor aria ("A
te fra tanti affanni"), written for Adamberger; the seventh, a double
chorus ("Se vuoi, puniscimi"); the eighth, a bravura aria for soprano
("Fra le oscure Ombre"), written for Mademoiselle Cavalieri; the ninth, a
terzetto ("Tutti le mie speranze"); and the tenth, a final chorus and
fugue which, by general consent of the critics of the time, was called
the "queen of vocal fugues." Notwithstanding the introduction of
specially-written arias, and the brilliant music assigned to the soprano,
the cantata is regarded as one of the purest examples of Mozart's church
style.

[32] Catharina Cavalieri, born in 1761, died June 30, 1801. She was a
singer in Italian and German opera in Vienna from 1775 to 1783; but
as she never left that city her reputation was purely local. Mozart
wrote for her the part of Constanza in his opera "Die Entführing."

[33] Valentin Adamberger was born at Munich, July 6, 1743, and was famed
for his splendid tenor voice. Mozart composed for him the part of
Belmont in the "Entführing," and highly esteemed him as a friend and
adviser. He died Aug. 24, 1804.

The Masonic Cantatas.

Mozart became a member of the Masonic fraternity shortly after his
arrival in Vienna in 1784, and devoted himself to its objects with all
the ardor of his nature. In the following year his father visited him and
was also persuaded to join, though not without considerable entreaty on
the son's part. He was a devoted member of the Church and entertained a
deep reverence for its forms. The Church then, as now, was hostile to all
secret orders, and was particularly inimical to the Masons because they
had attacked certain alleged abuses in the cloisters. His prejudices were
overcome, however, and he soon became as ardent a devotee of Masonry as
his son. It formed one of the principal subjects of their correspondence;
but unfortunately all these letters were destroyed by the cautious father
a short time before his death, which occurred May 28, 1787. In only one
letter do we find reference to the subject, and that in a guarded manner.
On the 3d of April of that year Mozart heard of his father's illness, and
the next day he writes to him:--

"I have this moment heard tidings which distress me exceedingly, and
the more so that your last letter led me to suppose you were so well;
but I now hear that you are really ill. I need not say how anxiously I
shall long for a better report of you to comfort me, and I do hope to
receive it, though I am always prone to anticipate the worst. As death
(when closely considered) is the true goal of our life, I have made
myself so thoroughly acquainted with this good and faithful friend of
man, that not only has its image no longer anything alarming to me, but
rather something most peaceful and consolatory; and I thank my Heavenly
Father that He has vouchsafed to grant me the happiness, _and has given
me the opportunity (you understand me), to learn that it is the key to
our true felicity_."

Mozart's membership in the order began at an opportune time for him.
Though at the height of his fame he was at the very lowest depth of his
finances; and both in 1787 and 1789, though he was Imperial Chamber
Musician and his opera "Don Giovanni" was having a successful run, he was
obliged to apply repeatedly to his friend and brother Mason, the merchant
Puchberg of Vienna, for loans, and also to Herr Hofdämmel, who was about
to become a Mason upon Mozart's solicitation. During the short remainder
of his life he was devotedly attached to the order, and he was buried in
the dress of the brotherhood; but, strange to say, not one of the members
accompanied their illustrious associate to the grave.

Four of Mozart's works were directly inspired by Masonry. In 1785 he
wrote a simple but beautiful lodge song for voice, with piano
accompaniment ("Die ihr einern neuen Grade"). This was followed by the
wonderfully beautiful "Freemason's Funeral Music" for orchestra, written
upon the occasion of the death of two brothers in the fraternity, of
which Jahn says:--

"Mozart has written nothing more beautiful, from its technical
treatment and finished effect of sound, its earnest feeling and
psychological truth, than this short adagio. It is the utterance of a
resolute, manly character, which, in the face of death, pays the
rightful tribute to sorrow without being either crushed or stunned by
it."

In the same year he composed a small cantata, "Die Maurerfreude," for
tenor and chorus, in honor of Herr Born, the master of the lodge to which
he belonged in Vienna, which is full of true feeling combined with
graceful melody.

The second cantata, catalogued in Köchel "Eine Kleine Freimaurer Cantate,
'Laut verkünde unsre Freude,'" better known by its title "Lob der
Freundschaft" ("Praise of Friendship") is notable as the last work
written by Mozart. Its date is Nov. 15, 1791, only three weeks before his
death. At this time he was engaged in finishing up his "Requiem," which
had such a depressing effect upon him that he was ordered by his
physician to lay it aside. The rest he thus secured had such a good
effect that by the middle of November he was able to attend a Masonic
meeting and produce the little cantata which he had just written for
them. On reaching home after the performance he said to his wife, "O
Stänerl, how madly they have gone on about my cantata! If I did not know
that I had written better things, I should have thought this my best
composition." It is constructed upon a larger scale than the cantata of
1785, and is very pleasing and popular, but lacks the spirit and
earnestness of the former. It has six numbers: 1. Chorus, "Laut verkünde
unsre Freude;" 2. Recitative, "Zum ersten Male;" 3. Tenor aria, "Dieser
Gottheit Allmacht;" 4. Recitative, "Wohlan, ihr Brüder;" 5. Duet, "Lange
sallen diese Mauern"; 6. Chorus, "Lasst uns mit geschlungen Händen." It
was Mozart's swan-song. Two days after its performance he was stricken
down with his last illness.

PAINE.

John K. Paine, one of the very few really eminent American composers, was
born at Portland, Me., Jan. 9, 1839. He studied the piano, organ, and
composition with Kotzschmar in that city, and made his first public
appearance as an organist, June 25, 1857. During the following year he
went to Germany, and studied the organ, composition, and instrumentation
with Haupt and other masters in Berlin. He returned to this country in
1861, and gave several concerts, in which he played many of the organ
works of the best writers for the first time in the United States.
Shortly after his return he was appointed instructor of music in Harvard
University, and in 1876 was honored with the elevation to a professorship
and given a regular chair. He is best known as a composer, and several of
his works have been paid the rare compliment of performance in Germany,
among them his Mass in D and all his symphonies. The former was given at
the Berlin Singakademie in 1867, under his own direction. Among his
principal compositions are the oratorio "St. Peter," the music to
"Oedipus," the cantatas, "Nativity," "The Realm of Fancy," and "Phoebus,
Arise;" the Mass in D; the Centennial Hymn, set to Whittier's poem, and
sung at the opening of the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition; the
overture to "As You Like It;" "The Tempest," in the style of a symphonic
poem; the symphony in C minor, and "Spring" symphony; besides numerous
sonatas, fantasias, preludes, songs, and arrangements for organ and
piano. His larger orchestral works have been made familiar to American
audiences by Mr. Theodore Thomas's band, and have invariably met with
success. His style of composition is large, broad, and dignified, based
upon the best classic models, and evinces a high degree of musical
scholarship.

Oedipus Tyrannus.

The first public performance of the "Oedipus Tyrannus" of Sophocles in
this country was given at the Sanders Theatre (Harvard College),
Cambridge, Mass., May 17, 1881, for which occasion Mr. Paine composed the
music incidental to the world-famous tragedy. The performance was a
memorable one in many ways. The tragedy was given in the original
language. It was the first event of the kind in America. The audience was
a representative one in culture, education, and social brilliancy. The
programme was also unique, being printed in Greek, and translated into
English was as follows:--

TO ALL THE SPECTATORS GREETING.

[The college seal.]

_Six verses from the Eumenides of Æschylus:_

"Hail people of the city
That sit near to Zeus,
Friends of the friendly goddess,
Wise in your generation,
Ye whom under the wings of Pallas
The father guards."

THE OEDIPUS TYRANNUS OF SOPHOCLES
WILL BE REPRESENTED IN THE THEATRE OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY
on the 17th of May ({Thargêliôn}), 1881,
and again on the 19th, 20th, and 21st.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Oedipus, King of Thebes George Riddle.
Priest of Zeus William Hobbs Manning.
Creon, Jocasta's brother Henry Norman.
Teiresias, the blind seer Curtis Guild.
Jocasta, Queen of Thebes Leonard Eckstein Opdycke.
Messenger, from Corinth Arthur Wellington Roberts.
Servant of Laius Gardiner Martin Lane.
Messenger from the Palace Owen Wister.

ATTENDANTS.

Attendants on Oedipus J. R. Coolidge, E. J. Wendell.
Attendants on Jocasta J. J. Greenough, W. L. Putnam.
Attendants on Creon G. P. Keith, J. Lee.
Boy guide of Teiresias C. H. Goodwin.
Antigone E. Manning.
Ismene J. K. Whittemore.
Suppliants.-- G. P. Keith, G. D. Markham (priests), W. H. Herrick, J.
Lee, E. Lovering, H. Putnam, L. A. Shaw, C. M. Walsh
(chosen youths), C. H. Goodwin, E. Manning, R. Manning,
W. Merrill, E. R. Thayer, J. K. Whittemore (boys).

CHORUS OF THEBAN OLD MEN.

Coryphæus Louis Butler McCagg.
Assistant to the chorus in the third stasmon, with solo
George Laurie Osgood.

MEMBERS OF THE CHORUS.

N. M. Brigham,
Frederick R. Burton,
Henry G. Chapin,
Sumner Coolidge,
Edward P. Mason,
Marshall H. Cushing,
Wendell P. Davis,
Morris Earle,
Percival J. Eaton,
Gustavus Tuckerman,
Charles S. Hamlin,
Jared S. How,
Howard Lilienthal,
Charles F. Mason.

Leader of the chorus and composer of the music John Knowles Paine.
Prompter George L. Kittredge.

The scene is laid in front of the palace in Boetian Thebes. The chorus
is composed of Theban old men. Oedipus speaks first. The managers
request all the spectators to remain sitting until the postlude is
ended. Immediately after the last chorus has been sung there will be a
pause for those who wish to go out. After this the doors will be
closed.

After the play, horse-cars ({hamaxai hipposidêrodromikai}) will be
ready for those who want to go to the city.

Wilsons, printers. ({Oyilsônes typois egapsan}.)

The story of the Theban hero, his ignorance of his own parentage, his
dismay at the revelation of the oracle that he would kill his father and
marry his mother, his quarrel with the former, resulting in the very
tragedy he was seeking to avoid, his solution of the riddle of the
sphinx, the reward of the Queen's hand which Creon had promised, leading
to the unfortunate marriage with his mother, Jocasta, thus completing the
revelation of the oracle, does not need description in detail. The
marriage was followed by a pestilence that wasted Thebes, and at this
point the plot of the drama begins. It concerns itself with the efforts
of Oedipus to unravel the mystery of the death of his father, Laius,
which lead to the discovery that he himself was the murderer, and that he
had been guilty of incest with his own mother. Jocasta hangs herself, and
Oedipus, rushing frantically into the palace, beholds her, and
overwhelmed with horror at the sight and the fulfilment of the oracle,
seizes her brooch-pin and blinds himself. In the Oedipus at Colonos the
sequel is told. The hero dies in the gardens of the Eumenides, happy in
the love of his daughters and the pardon which fate grants him.

The music to the tragedy is thoroughly classical in spirit, and has all
the nobility, breadth, dignity, and grace characteristic of the Greek
idea. The principal lyric movements of the chorus, the choral odes, of
which there are six, comprise the scheme of the composer. The
melodramatic practice of the orchestra accompanying spoken dialogue only
appears to a limited extent in the third ode; and the chorus, as
narrator, is accompanied by music only in the seven last lines of the
play, which form the postlude. The orchestral introduction, which is
treated in a very skilful and scholarly manner, epitomizes the spirit of
the work. The odes are divided as usual into strophes and antistrophes,
assigned alternately to a male chorus of fifteen and full chorus. The
first ("Oracle sweet-tongued of Zeus"), which has the genuine antique
dignity and elevation, is a description of the sufferings of the people
from the pestilence which has wasted Thebes since the unnatural marriage
of Oedipus and Jocasta, and a fervent prayer to the gods for aid. The
second ("Thou Delphic Rock, who can he be?") concludes the scene where
the blind prophet Teiresias arrives upon the summons of Creon and accuses
Oedipus of the crime, accompanying the accusation with dark hints of
further guilt. In this ode, which is specially noticeable for its rich
and graceful treatment, the chorus expresses its disbelief of the
charges. In the third scene, Creon enters to protest against the
accusations of Oedipus, but a quarrel ensues between them, which results
in the menace of death to the former. Jocasta appears, and upon her
intercession Creon is allowed to depart. In the ode, the chorus joins in
this appeal to Oedipus,--a strong, vigorous number, the effect of which
is heightened by the intervening spoken parts of Creon, Oedipus, and
Jocasta, with musical accompaniment. The fourth ode ("O may my Life be
spent in Virtue") is a vigorous denunciation of the impiety of Jocasta in
speaking scornfully of the oracles. The fifth ode ("If I the Prophet's
Gift possess") is full of idyllic grace and sweetness, realizing in a
remarkable degree the old Grecian idea of sensuous beauty. It is a
speculation upon the divine origin of Oedipus, after the messenger
relates the story of the King's exposure in his childhood upon Mount
Cithæron, and contains a charming tenor solo. The last ode ("O Race of
mortal Men") bewails the vicissitudes of fortune, and is full of the
tragic significance of impending fate. The work comes to a close with the
postlude:--

"Ye who dwell in Thebes our city, fix on Oedipus your eyes,
Who resolved the dark enigma, noblest liver and most wise.
Glorious like a sun he mounted, envied of the popular throng,
Now he sinks in seas of anguish, quenched the stormy waves among.
Therefore I await the final hour, to ancient wisdom known,
Ere I call one mortal happy. Never shall that thought be shown,
Till he end his earthly being, scathless of a sigh or groan."

Six public performances of the "Oedipus" were given in 1881, and every
season since that time selections from the music have been performed in
New York, Boston, and other cities. As the most important and scholarly
work an American composer has yet produced, it cannot be heard too often.

The Nativity.

The text of "The Nativity," for chorus, solo voices, and orchestra, is
taken from the hymn in Milton's ode "On the Morning of Christ's
Nativity," and is composed in three parts. The first part includes the
first, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh; the second, a
combination of the eighth and ninth; and the third, the thirteenth,
fourteenth, and fifteenth verses. After a short instrumental
introduction, which works up to an effective climax, the cantata begins
with a chorus ("It was the Winter wild"), introduced by the soprano,
developing to full harmony at the words, "Nature in Awe to Him," and
closing pianissimo. After a short soprano solo ("But, He her Fears to
cease") the chorus resumes ("With Turtle Wing the amorous Clouds
dividing"). A succession of choral passages follows, admirably suggestive
of the sentiment of the poem,--a vigorous, stirring allegro, "No War or
Battle's Sound was heard the World around;" "And Kings sat still with
awful Eye," broadly and forcibly written; and a tender, graceful number,
"But peaceful was the Night." They are followed by another soprano solo
("And though the shady Gloom"), full of brightness and animation, which
leads directly to a majestic chorus ("He saw a greater Sun appear"),
which closes the first part.

The second part, a quartet and chorus, is pastoral in character, and
reflects the idyllic quiet and beauty of the text. The quartet, "The
Shepherds on the Lawn," is introduced by short tenor, bass, and alto
solos, and also contains a very melodious and graceful solo for soprano
("When such Music sweet their Hearts and Ears did greet"), after which
the full quartet leads up to a vigorous chorus ("The Air such Pleasure
loath to lose"), closing the part.

The third part is choral, and forms an effective climax to the work. It
opens with the powerful chorus, "Ring out, ye crystal Spheres,"
emphasized by the organ bass with stately effect, and moves on
majestically to the close,--

"And Heaven as at some festival
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall."

The Realm of Fancy.

"The Realm of Fancy" is a short cantata, the music set to Keats's
familiar poem:--

"Ever let the fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home:
At a touch sweet pleasure melteth,
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth."

With the exception of a dozen lines, the dainty poem is used entire, and
is set to music with a keen appreciation of its graceful beauty. A short
allegretto fancifully trips along to the opening chorus ("Ever let the
Fancy roam"), which is admirable for its shifting play of musical color.
A soprano solo ("She will bring in spite of Frost"), followed by a very
expressive barytone solo ("Thou shalt at a Glance behold the Daisy and
the Marigold"), leads up to a charming little chorus ("Shaded Hyacinth,
always Sapphire Queen"). A short instrumental passage, in the time of the
opening allegretto, introduces the final chorus ("O Sweet Fancy, let her
loose"), charmingly worked up, and closing in canon form. The cantata is
very short; but rarely have poem and music been more happily wedded than
in this delightful tribute to fancy.

Phoebus, Arise.

Mr. Paine's ripe scholarship is shown to admirable advantage in his
selection of the poem "Phoebus, Arise" from among the lyrics of the old
Scottish poet, William Drummond, of Hawthornden, and the characteristic
old-style setting he has given to it. Like "The Realm of Fancy," it is
very short; but like that cantata, also, it illustrates the versatility
of his talent and the happy manner in which he preserves the
characteristics of the poem in his music. Drummond, who has been called
"the Scottish Petrarch," and whose poems were so celebrated that even Ben
Jonson could find it in his way to visit him, was noted for the grace and
lightness of his verse, and the pensive cast with which it was tinged. It
has little of the modern poetic style, and the composer has clothed his
poem in a musical garb to correspond.

The cantata is written for tenor solo, male chorus, and orchestra, and
opens with a brilliant chorus ("Phoebus, arise, and paint the sable Skies
with azure, white, and red"), closing with a crescendo in the old style.
An expressive and somewhat pensive tenor solo follows:--

"This is that happy morn
And day, long-wishèd day,
Of all my life so dark
(If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn
And fates my hope betray),
Which purely white deserves
An everlasting diamond should it mark.
This is the morn should bring unto the grove
My love, to hear, and recompense my love."

A short choral passage with tenor solo ("Fair King, who all preserves")
leads to a full rich chorus ("Now, Flora, deck thyself in fairest
Guise"). In the next number the chorus returns to the opening theme
("Phoebus, Arise"), and develops it with constantly increasing power to
the close.

PARKER.

Horatio W. Parker, a young American composer of more than ordinary
promise, was born at Auburndale, Mass., Sept. 15, 1863. After his
fifteenth year he began the study of music, taking his earlier lessons of
the three Boston teachers, Stephen A. Emery, John Orth, and G. W.
Chadwick. In 1882 he went to Munich and studied the organ and composition
with Josef Rheinberger, for three years. In the spring of 1885 he wrote
the cantata "King Trojan," and it was produced for the first time in that
city with success during the summer of the same year. Since then it has
been given in this country by Mr. Jules Jordan, of Providence, R. I.,
Feb. 8, 1887. His string quartet in F major was played at a concert of
the Buffalo Philharmonic Society in January, 1886; and a short scherzo
was performed by the Van der Stücken orchestra in New York City in the
same year. Besides these compositions, he has written three overtures,
quite a number of songs and pieces for the piano-forte, and a symphony in
C, and ballade for chorus and orchestra, both of which were played in
Munich last year. In 1886 he accepted the professorship of music at the
Cathedral School of St. Paul, Garden City, L. I., and in February, 1887,
went to New York, where he now resides, to take charge of a boy choir in
St. Andrew's Church, Harlem.

King Trojan.

"King Trojan," composed for chorus, solos, and orchestra, was written in
March, 1885, and first performed in July of the same year, at Munich. Its
story is the poem of the same name, by Franz Alfred Muth, the English
version being a free and excellent translation by the composer's mother,
Mrs. Isabella G. Parker, of Auburndale, Mass.

After a short and graceful introduction, the cantata opens with a solo
describing the quiet beauty of a summer night, daintily accompanied by
wind instruments and harp. A second voice replies ("O Summer Night"), and
then the two join in a very vigorous duet ("O fill thou Even with Light
of Heaven"). A short solo for third voice leads up to a chorus which
gives us a picture of King Trojan's castle gleaming in the moonlight. It
is followed by a very effective solo for the King ("The Horse is
neighing, O Page of mine"), in which he bids his Page saddle his steed
for a night ride to visit his distant love. The chorus intervenes with a
reflective number ("What thinks she now?"), which is very dramatic in
style, describing the mutual longing of the lovers to be together.

The second scene opens with a short solo by the Page ("Up, up, O King,
the Horses wait"), followed by the chorus as narrator, describing the
ride of the King and his companion through the greenwood, with which is
interwoven Trojan's solo ("How sweet and cool is yet the Night"). In the
next number, a vivacious allegro, the story of the ride is continued by
the chorus, with a characteristic accompaniment, and again Trojan sings a
charming tribute to the summer night, which is followed by responsive
solos of the King and the Page, in the allegro and penseroso style,--the
one singing of the raptures of night, the other of the gladness of day
and sunlight. A passionate bit of recitative ("Now swift, ye Horses") by
Trojan reveals the secret of the King's haste. He is King of the night,
and the morning ray will be fatal to him. A short choral number ("And
forward fly they") brings the first part to a close with the arrival of
the riders at the Queen's castle.

The second part opens with a beautiful solo, quartet, and chorus
("Good-Night, the Lindens whisper"), which describes the meeting of the
lovers, while

"Beneath the lofty castle gate
Slumbers the page who so long must wait.
Then crows the cock, the hour is late."

At this note of warning the Page appeals to his master to fly, for the
sunlight will bring him pain and harm. The dallying King replies, "Hark!
how the Nightingale yet sings." A small chorus intervenes with the
warning, "Love is so fleeting, Night is so fair." The Queen appeals to
him, "What seest thou, O King?" To which Trojan replies with agitation,
"The ruddy Morning, it is my Death." Again comes the Page's warning. The
King springs up in alarm and hastens to his steed. In a choral presto
movement the ride back is described. The King conceals himself in a dark
thicket, hoping to escape, but the night has vanished and the day has
begun. Its beams penetrate his refuge, and with a last despairing cry
("Accursed Light, I feel thee now") he expires. A short choral passage,
with harp accompaniment, brings this very dramatic and fanciful
composition to a close:--

"And from his horse the king now falls,
He was but king of the night;
The sunlight sparkles, the sunlight shines,
But death comes with morning light."

PARKER.

James C. D. Parker, an American composer, was born at Boston, Mass., June
2, 1828. He received his primary education in the schools of that city,
was graduated from Harvard University in 1848, and immediately thereafter
began the study of law. His love for music, however, was irresistible,
and he soon dropped law-books and entered upon a thorough course of
musical instruction, at first in Boston, and afterwards at the
Conservatory in Leipsic, where he finished the regular course. He
returned to Boston in 1854, and at once devoted himself to musical work
in which he took a prominent part, and made an excellent reputation as
pianist, organist, and teacher, as well as composer, though he has not as
yet attempted any very large or ambitious works. In 1862 he organized an
amateur vocal association under the name of the Parker Club, which has
performed several works by Gade, Mendelssohn, Berlioz, Schumann, and
others, with success. His most important composition is the "Redemption
Hymn," which he wrote for the Boston Handel and Haydn Society during the
period he was its organist. He has also held the position of organist and
choir-director of Trinity Church in that city, and of Professor of the
College of Music connected with the Boston University. During his
unostentatious career he has earned an enviable reputation as an earnest,
honest musician deeply devoted to his art.

The Redemption Hymn.

"The Redemption Hymn," for alto solo and chorus, was written for the
Fourth Triennial Festival of the Handel and Haydn Society, and was first
given on that occasion, May 17, 1877, Anna Louise Cary-Raymond taking the
solo. The words are taken from Isaiah li. 9-11.

Chorus:--"Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!
"Awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old.
"Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab and wounded the dragon? Awake, put
on strength, O arm of the Lord!
Solo and Chorus:--"Art thou not it that hath dried the sea, the waters
of the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for
the ransomed to pass over? Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall
return and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy shall
be upon their head; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow
and mourning shall flee away."

The work opens with a brief but spirited orchestral introduction, which
leads to an exultant chorus ("Awake, O Arm of the Lord"), changing to a
well-written fugue in the middle part ("Art thou not it?"), and returning
to the first theme in the close. The next number is an effective alto
solo ("Art thou not it which hath dried the Sea?") alternating with
chorus. It is followed by a slow movement for alto solo and chorus
("Therefore the Redeemed of the Lord shall return"), which closes very
gracefully and tenderly on the words, "Sorrow and Mourning shall flee
away." This little work has become a favorite with singing societies, by
the scholarly and effective manner in which it is written.

RANDEGGER.

Alberto Randegger was born at Trieste, April 13, 1832, and began the
study of music at an early age with Lafont and Ricci. In his twentieth
year he had written numerous minor pieces of church music, several masses
and two ballets which were produced with success in his native city. From
1852 to 1854 he was engaged as a conductor in the theatres of Fiume,
Zera, Brescia, and Venice. In the latter year he brought out a grand
opera in Brescia, called "Bianca Capello," shortly after which he went to
London, where he has since resided and made a world-wide reputation as a
teacher. In 1857 he conducted Italian opera at St. James's Theatre; in
1864 brought out a comic opera, "The Rival Beauties," at the Theatre
Royal, Leeds; in 1868 was appointed Professor of Singing at the Royal
Academy of Music, in which he has since become a director; in 1879-80 was
conductor for the Carl Rosa English Opera Company at Her Majesty's
Theatre, London; and has since been appointed conductor of the Norwich
Festival in the place of Benedict. His principal works, besides those
already mentioned, are: "Medea," a scena, sung by Madame Rudersdorff at
the Gewandhaus, Leipsic (1869); the One hundred and fiftieth Psalm, for
soprano solo, chorus, orchestra, and organ (1872); cantata, "Fridolin"
(1873); soprano scena, "Saffo" (1875); funeral anthem for the death of
the Prince Consort; and a large number of songs which are great favorites
on the concert-stage.

Fridolin.

"Fridolin, or the Message to the Forge" was written for the Birmingham
Triennial Musical Festival of 1873. The words, by Mme. Erminia
Rudersdorff, are founded on Schiller's ballad, "Der Gang nach dem
Eisenhammer." The _dramatis personæ_ are Waldemar, Count of Saverne;
Eglantine, Countess of Saverne; Fridolin, page to the Countess; and
Hubert, squire to the Count. The story closely follows that of Schiller.
The preface to the piano score gives its details as follows:--

"Fridolin and Hubert are in the service of the Count of Saverne.
Hubert, aspiring to win the affections of his beautiful mistress,
conceives a violent hatred of Fridolin, whom he regards as an obstacle
in his path. Taking advantage of Fridolin's loyal devotion to the
Countess, Hubert excites the jealousy of the Count, and prompts a stern
revenge. The Count forthwith writes to some mechanic serfs, ordering
that whoever comes asking a certain question shall be at once thrown
into their furnace. Fridolin, innocent of wrong and unconscious of
danger, receives the 'message to the forge;' but, ere setting out, he
waits upon his mistress for such commands as she might have to give.
The Countess desires him to enter the chapel he would pass on his way
and offer up a prayer for her. Fridolin obeys, and thus saves his own
life; but vengeance overtakes the traitor Hubert, who, going to the
forge to learn whether the plot has succeeded, himself asks the fatal
question, 'Is obeyed your lord's command?' and himself becomes the
victim. Fridolin subsequently appears, and is about to perish likewise,
when the Count and Countess, between whom explanations have taken
place, arrive on the scene, to preserve the innocent and to learn the
fate of the guilty."

The cantata opens with a short but stirring prelude, introducing the
declamatory prologue-chorus:--

"A pious youth was Fridolin,
Who served the Lord with zeal,
And did his duty faithfully,
Come thereby woe or weal.
For this when subtle foe conspired
And sought o'er him to boast,
About his path in direst need
Kept guard the angel host."

The cantata proper opens with a recitative by Fridolin ("Arising from the
Lap of star-clad Night"), leading up to the quiet, dreamy air, "None but
holy, lofty Thoughts." It is followed by a bass scena for Hubert
("Proceed thou, hateful Minion, on thy Path") which opens in an agitated
manner, but grows more reposeful and tender in style as the subject
changes in the passage, "For one kind Glance from out those Eyes divine."
Again the scena changes and becomes vigorous in the recitative,
"Dispelled by jealous Rage is Hope's fond Dream," set to an imposing
accompaniment, and leading to a brilliant fiery allegro ("A thousand
hideous Deaths I'd make him die"). The next number is a very graphic and
spirited hunting-chorus ("Hark! the Morn awakes the Horn"), introduced
and accompanied by the horns, and full of breezy, out-door feeling. A
long dialogue follows between Hubert and the Count, somewhat gloomy in
character, in which the former arouses his master's jealous suspicions.
The gloom still further deepens as Hubert suggests the manner of
Fridolin's death ("Mid yon gloomy Mountains"). Then follows the message
to the forge by the Count in monotone phrases ("Mark, ye Serfs, your
Lord's Commands") and the scene closes with a very dramatic duet ("Death
and Destruction fall upon his Head"). In striking contrast with these
stormy numbers comes the charming, graceful chorus of the handmaidens
("Calmly flow the equal Hours"), followed by a very expressive song for
the Countess ("No Bliss can be so great"). A short scene in recitative
leads up to a tender duet ("Above yon Sun, the Stars above") for Fridolin
and the Countess, closing with a powerful quartet for the four principal
parts ("Now know I, Hubert, thou speakest true").

The ninth scene is admirably constructed. It opens with an animated and
picturesque dance and chorus of villagers ("Song is resounding, Dancers
are bounding"), which swings along in graceful rhythm until it is
interrupted by a solemn phrase for organ, introduced by horns, which
prepares the way for a chorale ("Guardian Angels sweet and fair"),
closing with Fridolin's prayer at the shrine, interwoven with a beautiful
sacred chorus ("Sancta Maria, enthroned above"). In a recitative and
ballad ("The wildest Conflicts rage within my fevered Soul") the Count
mourns over what he supposes to be the infidelity of his wife, followed
by a long and very dramatic scene with the Countess ("My Waldemar, how
erred thine Eglantine?"). The last scene is laid at the forge, and after
a short but vigorous prelude opens with a chorus of the smiths ("Gift of
Demons, raging Fire"), in which the composer has produced the effect of
clanging anvils, roaring fire, and hissing sparks with wonderful realism.
The chorus closes with passages describing the providential rescue of
Fridolin and the fate of Hubert, and an _andante religioso_ ("Let your
Voices Anthems raise"). The epilogue is mainly choral, and ends this very
dramatic work in broad flowing harmonies.

RHEINBERGER.

Joseph Gabriel Rheinberger was born at Vaduz, in Lichtenstein, March 17,
1839, and displayed his musical talent at a very early age. He studied
the piano in his fifth year, and in his seventh was organist in the
church of his native place. At the age of twelve he entered the Munich
Conservatory, where he remained as a scholar until he was nineteen, when
he was appointed one of its teachers; at the same time he became organist
at the Hofkirche of St. Michael, and afterwards director of the Munich
Oratorio Society. In 1867 he was appointed professor and inspector of the
Royal Music School, and since 1877 has been the royal Hofkapellmeister,
directing the performances of the Kapellchor, an organization similar to
that of the Berlin Domchor. He is a very prolific composer, nearly two
hundred works having proceeded from his pen. Among them are the
"Wallenstein" and "Florentine" symphonies; a Stabat Mater; two operas,
"The Seven Ravens" and "Thürmer's Töchterlein;" incidental music to a
drama of Calderon's; a symphony-sonata for piano; a requiem for the dead
in the Franco-German war; theme and variations for string quartet; a
piano concerto; five organ sonatas; the choral works, "Toggenburg,"
"Klärchen auf Eberstein," "Wittekind," and "Christophorus;" and a large
number of songs and church pieces, besides much chamber music.

Christophorus.

"Christophorus," a legend, as Rheinberger calls it, was written in 1879,
and is composed for barytone, soprano, and alto solos, chorus, and
orchestra. Its subject is taken from the familiar story of the giant who
bore the infant Christ across the flood. The chorus acts the part of
narrator, and in its opening number relates the legend of Christophorus'
wanderings and his arrival before the castle whose master he would serve.
He offers his services, but when they are accepted as an offering from
the gods he haughtily declares that he only serves "for fame and
chivalry." A voice thereupon in an impressive solo ("Trust not this
loud-voiced Stranger") warns him away as an envoy of Satan, and the
chorus repeats the warning. The giant departs with the intention of
drawing his sword in Satan's cause,--

"For he alone must be lord of all,
Whose name doth so valiant a monarch appall."

In a very picturesque number the chorus describes his wanderings among
the mountain crags and rocks where Satan weaves his spells about him; and
then suddenly changing to a tender, delicate strain ("Over us Stars
shine") anticipates the Voice, which in a sensuous aria ("Who is the
sovereign Lord of the Heart?") sings the power of love. In graceful
chorus the spirits taunt him, whereupon he once more resolves to fly and
to abandon the cause of Satan, but is thwarted by them. A weird chorus
closes the first part ("Satan a-hunting is gone"), ending with an
impressive strain:--

"Stormily falleth the night:
Frightened maidens fleeing,
Demon hordes all around.
'A cross, see, upraised!
Fly, master! too far we have come.
Hallowed is the ground.'"

The second part opens with a reflective soliloquy by the giant, followed
by a plaintive chorus ("All now is lone and silent") describing the
suffering of our Saviour on the cross and the sadness of a hermit gazing
upon the scene. The giant approaches the latter, and a dialogue ensues
between them, in which the identity of the victim on the cross is
revealed. Having found the King of the universe, Christophorus determines
to devote himself to His cause, and inquires how he may serve Him. He is
informed he must go to the swiftly-rolling river and carry the pilgrims
across. A chanting chorus ("As flows the River seawards, so onward glide
the Years") describes the work of the faithful toiler. Then comes a voice
calling him, and he beholds an Infant waiting for him. He takes Him upon
his shoulders and bears Him into the flood, but as he advances, bends and
struggles beneath his load "as though the whole world he bore." He
inquires the meaning, and the Voice replies:--

"Thou bear'st the world and bearest its Creator:
This Child is Jesus, God's own Son.
Soldier of Christ!
Thine arms were charity and mercy,
The arms of love.
Now mayst rejoice:
The prize of thy faith is won."

A joyful, exultant chorus, ("Blessed of Rivers, the Child embrace")
closes this very graceful little "legend."

Toggenburg.

"Toggenburg," a cycle of ballads, was written in 1880. The music is for
solos and mixed chorus, the ballads being linked together by motives,
thus forming a connected whole. The story is a very simple one. The
bright opening chorus ("At Toggenburg all is in festive Array") describes
the pageantry which has been prepared to welcome the return of Henry,
Knight of Toggenburg, with his fair young Suabian bride, the Lady Etha.
The chorus is followed by a duet and alto or barytone solo, which
indicate the departure of the Knight for the wars, and the Lady Etha's
loss of the wedding ring. The next number, a solo quartet and chorus
("Ah! Huntsman, who gave thee the Diamond Ring?"), is very dramatic in
its delineation of the return of the victorious Knight, who, observing
the ring on the finger of the huntsman, slays him, and then in a fit of
jealousy hurls the Lady Etha from the tower where she was waving his
welcome. The next number is a female chorus ("On mossy Bed her gentle
Form reposes"), very slow in its movement and plaintive in character. It
is followed by a weird and solemn chorus ("Through the Night rings the
Horn's Blast with Power"), picturing the mad ride of the Knight through
the darkness, accompanied by the dismal notes of ravens and mysterious
sounds like "greetings from the dead," which only cease when he discovers
the corpse of his lady with the cross on its breast. A short closing
chorus, funereal in style, ends the mournful story:--

"Toggenburg all is in mourning array,
The banners wave, the gate stands wide,
Count Henry returns to his home this day,
In death he anew has won his bride.
Once more for their coming the hall is prepared,
Where flickering tapers are ranged around,
And far through the night in the valley are heard
The chants of the monks with their mournful sound."

Though the work has somewhat both of the Schumann and Mendelssohn
sentiment in it, it is nevertheless original and characteristic in
treatment. The melodies are pleasing throughout, and cover a wide range
of expression, reaching from the tenderness of love to the madness of
jealousy, and thence on to the elegiac finale.

ROMBERG.

Andreas Romberg was born April 27, 1767, at Vechte, near Münster. At a
very early age he was celebrated as a violinist. In his seventeenth year
he made a _furor_ by his playing at the Concerts Spirituels, Paris. In
1790, with his cousin Bernhard, who was even more celebrated as a
violoncellist (indeed the Rombergs, like the Bachs, were all musicians),
he played in the Elector's band, and also went with him to Rome, where
the cousins gave concerts together under the patronage of one of the
cardinals. During the next four years Andreas travelled in Austria and
France, and during his stay at Vienna made the acquaintance of Haydn, who
was very much interested in his musical work. In 1800 he brought out an
opera in Paris which made a failure. He then left for Hamburg, where he
married and remained many years. In 1820 he was appointed court
capellmeister at Gotha, and died there in the following year. Among his
compositions are six symphonies; five operas, "Das graue Ungeheuer," "Die
Macht der Musik," "Der Rabe," "Die Grossmuth des Scipio," and "Die Ruinen
zu Paluzzi;" and several cantatas, quartets, quintets, and church
compositions. Of all his works, however, his "Lay of the Bell" is the
best known. A few years ago it was the stock piece of nearly every choral
society in Germany, England, and the United States; and though now
relegated to the repertory of old-fashioned music, it is still very
popular.

Lay of the Bell.

The "Lay of the Bell" was composed in 1808, the music being set to
Schiller's famous poem of the same name, whose stately measures are well
adapted to musical treatment. It opens with a bass solo by the Master,
urging on the workmen:--

"In the earth right firmly planted,
Stands well baked the mould of clay:
Up, my comrades, be ye helpful;
Let the bell be born to-day."

The full chorus responds in a rather didactic strain ("The Labor we
prepare in Earnest"), and as it closes the Master gives his directions
for lighting the fire in the furnace and mixing the metals. In this
manner the work progresses, the Master issuing his orders until the bell
is ready for the casting, the solo singers or chorus replying with
sentiments naturally suggested by the process and the future work of the
bell. The first of these responses is the chorus, "What in the Earth
profoundly hidden," a smoothly flowing number followed by a soprano solo
("For with a Burst of joyous Clangor"), a pleasantly-rippling melody
picturing the joys of childhood, and a spirited tenor solo ("The Youth,
Girl-playmates proudly leaving") indicating the dawn of the tender
passion which broadens out into love, as the two voices join in the
charming duet, "O tender Longing, Hope delightsome." The bass still
further emphasizes their delight in the recitative, "When stern and
gentle Troth have plighted," leading up to a long but interesting tenor
solo ("Though Passion gives way") which describes the homely joys of
domestic life. The male chorus thereupon takes up the story in a joyful
strain ("And the good Man with cheerful Eye"), and tells us of the
prosperity of the happy pair and the good man's boast,--

"Firm as the solid earth,
Safe from misfortune's hand,
Long shall my dwelling stand;"

to which comes the ominous response of the female chorus:--

"Yet none may with Fate supernal
Ever form a league eternal;
And misfortune swiftly strides."

The Master now gives the signal to release the metal into the mould,
whereupon follows a stirring and picturesque chorus ("Right helpful is
the Might of Fire") describing the terrors of fire, the wild alarm, the
fright and confusion of the people, the clanging bells and crackling
flames, and the final destruction of the homestead, closing the first
part.

The second part opens with the anxious orders of the Master to cease from
work and await the result of the casting. The chorus takes up a slow and
stately measure ("To Mother Earth our Work committing") which closes in a
mournful finale describing the passing funeral train, followed by a
pathetic soprano solo which tells the sad story of the death of the good
man's wife, while "To the orphaned Home a Stranger comes unloving Rule to
bear." The scene now changes from a desolate to a happy home as the
Master bids the workmen seek their pleasure while the bell is cooling. A
soprano solo takes up a cheery strain ("Wends the weary Wanderer"),
picturing the harvest home, the dance of the youthful reapers, and the
joys of evening by the fireside, followed by a tribute to patriotism,
sung by tenor and bass, the pleasant scene closing with an exultant full
chorus ("Thousand active Hands combining"). The Master then gives the
order to break the mould, and in contemplation of the ruin which might
have been caused had the metal burst it, the chorus breaks out in strong,
startling phrases picturing the horrors of civil strife ("The Master's
Hand the Mould may shatter"). The work, however, is complete and
successful, and in the true spirit of German Gemüthlichkeit the Master
summons his workmen:--

"Let us, comrades, round her pressing,
Upon our bell invoke a blessing.
'Concordia,' let her name be called:
In concord and in love of one another,
Where'er she sound, may brother meet with brother."

The cantata closes with a last invocation on the part of the Master,
followed by a jubilant chorus ("She is moving, She is moving").

SCHUBERT.

Franz Peter Schubert was born in Vienna, Jan. 31, 1797, and received his
first musical lessons from his father and his elder brother Ignaz. In his
eleventh year he sang in the Lichtenthal choir and shortly afterwards
entered the Imperial Convict School, where for the next three or four
years he made rapid progress in composition. In 1813 he returned home,
and to avoid the conscription entered his father's school as a teacher,
where he remained for three years, doing drudgery but improving his
leisure hours by studying with Salieri and devoting himself assiduously
to composition. His life had few events in it to record. It was devoted
entirely to teaching and composition. He wrote in almost every known form
of music, but it was in the Lied that he has left the richest legacy to
the world, and in that field he reigns with undisputed title.
Unquestionably many of these songs were inspirations, like the "Erl
King," for instance, which came to him in the midst of a carousal. The
most famous of them are to be found in the cycluses "Müllerlieder," "Die
Gesänge Ossians," "Die Geistlichen Lieder," "Die Winterreise," and "Der
Schwanengesang." They are wonderful for their completeness, their
expression of passion, their beauty and grace of form, the delicacy of
their fancy, and their high artistic finish. Among the other great works
he has left are the lovely "Song of the Spirits over the Water," for male
voices; "Die Allmacht;" "Prometheus;" "Miriam's War Song;" the eight-part
chorus "An den Heiligen Geist;" the "Momens Musicale;" impromptus and
Hungarian fantasies for piano; the sonatas in C minor and B flat minor;
nine symphonies, two of them unfinished; the trios in B flat and E flat;
the quartets in D minor and G major; the quintet in C; two operas,
"Alfonso and Estrella" and "Fierrabras;" the mass in G, which he wrote
when but eighteen years of age, and the mass in E flat, which was his
last church composition. His catalogued works number over a thousand. He
died Nov. 19, 1828, and his last wish was to be buried by the side of
Beethoven, who on his death-bed had recognized "the divine spark" in
Schubert's music. Three graves only separate the great masters of the
Symphony and the Lied in the cemetery of Währing.

Miriam's War Song.

The majestic cantata, "Miriam's War Song," was written in March, 1828,
the last year of Schubert's life,--a year which was rich, however, in the
productions of his genius. The beautiful symphony in C, the mass in E
flat, the string quartet in C, the three piano sonatas dedicated to
Schumann, the eight-voiced "Hymn to the Holy Ghost," the 92d Psalm, a
"Tantum Ergo," and several songs, among them "Am Strom," "Der Hirt auf
den Felsen," and a part of the "Schwanengesang," all belong to this year.
The authorities differ as to the time of the first performance of
"Miriam's War Song." Nottebohm in his catalogue says that it was first
sung at a concert, Jan. 30, 1829, given for the purpose of raising funds
to erect a monument in memory of the composer, who died on the 19th of
the previous November. Others assert that Schubert was induced to give a
concert, March 26, 1828, the programme being composed entirely of his own
music, and that it was first heard on that occasion.

The work is for soprano solo and chorus, the words by the poet
Grillparzer, and the accompaniment, for the piano, as Schubert left it.
He had intended arranging it for orchestra, but did not live to complete
it. The work, however, was done a year or two afterwards by his friend
Franz Lachner, at that time officiating as Capellmeister at the
Kärnthnerthor Theatre in Vienna.

The theme of the cantata is Miriam's hymn of praise for the escape of the
Israelites, and the exultant song of victory by the people, rejoicing not
alone at their own delivery but at the destruction of the enemy. It opens
with a spirited and broad harmony, "Strike the Cymbals," changing to a
calm and graceful song, describing the Lord as a shepherd leading his
people forth from Egypt. The next number, depicting the awe of the
Israelites as they passed through the divided waters, the approach of
Pharaoh's hosts, and their destruction, is worked up with great power. As
the sea returns to its calm again, the opening chorus is repeated,
closing with a powerful fugue. The cantata is short, but it is a work of
imperishable beauty.

SCHUMANN.

Robert Schumann was born at Zwickau, in Saxony, June 8, 1810. In his
earliest youth he was recognized as a child of genius. His first teacher
in music was Baccalaureus Kuntzch, who gave him piano instruction. He
studied the piano with Wieck, whose daughter Clara he subsequently
married, now world-famous as a pianist. In 1830, in which year his
artistic career really opened, he began the theoretical study of music,
first with Director Kupsch in Leipsic and later with Heinrich Dorn, and
at the same time entered upon the work of composition. Schumann was not
only a musician but an able critic and graceful writer; and in 1834, with
Schunke, Knorr, and Wieck, he founded the "Neue Zeitschrift für Musik,"
which had an important influence upon musical progress in Germany, and in
which the great promise of such musicians as Chopin and Brahms was first
recognized. He married Clara Wieck in 1840, after much opposition from
her father; and in this year appeared some of his best songs, including
the three famous cycluses, "Liederkreis," "Woman's Life and Love," and
"Poet's Love," which now have a world-wide fame. In the following year
larger works came from his pen, among them his B minor symphony,
overture, scherzo, and finale in E major, and the symphony in D minor.
During this period in his career he made many artistic journeys with his
wife, which largely increased the reputation of both. In 1843 he
completed his great "romantic oratorio," "Paradise and the Peri," set to
Moore's text, and many favorite songs and piano compositions, among them
the "Phantasiestücke" and "Kinderscenen," and his elegant piano quintet
in E flat. In 1844, in company with his wife, he visited St. Petersburg
and Moscow, and their reception was a royal one. The same year he
abandoned his "Zeitschrift," in which "Florestan," "Master Raro,"
"Eusebius," and the other pseudonyms had become familiar all over
Germany, and took the post of director in Düsseldorf, in the place of
Ferdinand Hiller. During the last few years of his life he was the victim
of profound melancholy, owing to an affection of the brain, and he even
attempted suicide by throwing himself into the Rhine. He was then removed
to an asylum at Endenich, where he died July 20, 1856. The two men who
exercised most influence upon Schumann were Jean Paul and Franz Schubert.
He was deeply pervaded with the romance of the one and the emotional
feeling of the other. His work is characterized by genial humor, a rich
and warm imagination, wonderfully beautiful instrumentation, especially
in his accompaniments, the loftiest form of expression, and a rigid
adherence to the canons of art.

Advent Hymn.

In a letter to Strakerjan, Schumann writes:--

"To apply his powers to sacred music is the artist's highest aim. But
in youth we are all very firmly rooted to earth, with its joys and
sorrows; in old age the twigs tend upwards. And so I hope that that day
may not be too far distant from me."

The first of his works indicated in the above words to his friend was the
"Advent Hymn," written in 1848, based upon Rückert's poem. It was
followed later by a requiem and a mass, these comprising his only sacred
music.

The "Advent Hymn" describes the entry of Christ into Jerusalem,
reflectively considers his peaceful career as compared with that of
earthly kings, and appeals to His servants to bear tidings of Him
throughout the world, closing with a prayer that He will bring His peace
to all its people. It is a hymn full of simple devotion and somewhat
narrow in its limitations; but Schumann has treated it with all the
dignity and breadth of the oratorio style. It opens with a melodious
soprano solo ("In lowly Guise thy King appeareth"), with choral responses
by sopranos and altos, leading to an effective five-part chorus ("O King
indeed, though no Man hail Thee"), begun by first and second tenors and
basses, and closing in full harmony with the added female voices. The
soprano voice again announces a subject ("Thy Servants faithful, Tidings
bearing"), which is taken up by full chorus, in somewhat involved form,
though closing in plain harmony. The third number ("When Thou the stormy
Sea art crossing") is given out by the soprano and repeated by the female
chorus with a charming pianissimo effect. A few bars for male chorus
("Lord of Grace and Truth unfailing") lead into full chorus. The fifth
number ("Need is there for Thyself returning"), also choral, is very
elaborately treated with interchanging harmonies and bold rhythms,
leading up to the final choruses, which are very intricate in
construction, but at the close resolve into a double chorus of great
power and genuine religious exaltation.

There are other works of Schumann's which are more or less in the cantata
form, such as "The King's Son," op. 116, set to a ballad of Uhland's;
"The New Year's Song," op. 144, poem by Rückert; "The Luck of Edenhall,"
op. 143, poem by Uhland; "Of the Page and the King's Daughter," op. 140,
poem by Geibel; the "Spanish Love Song," op. 138; the "Minnespiel," op.
101; and the "Ritornelle," op. 65.

The Pilgrimage of the Rose.

"The Pilgrimage of the Rose," for solo and chorus, with piano
accompaniment, twenty-four numbers, was written in the spring of 1851,
and was first performed May 6, 1852, at a Düsseldorf subscription
concert. The story is taken from a somewhat vapid fairy-tale by Moritz
Horn, and has little point or meaning. It turns upon the commonplace
adventures of a young girl whose origin is disclosed by a rose which was
never to fall from her hand.

The principal numbers are the opening song, a joyous hymn to spring, in
canon form, for two sopranos; the dancing choruses of the elves, for two
sopranos and alto; the male chorus, "In the thick Wood," which is very
effective in harmony; the exultant bridal songs, "Why sound the Horns so
gayly?" and "Now at the Miller's;" the duet, "In the smiling Valley, 'mid
the Trees so green;" the Grave Song; the quartet, "Oh, Joy! foretaste of
Heaven's Rest;" and the duet, "I know a blushing Rosebud."

The work as a whole has never attained the popularity of his "Paradise
and the Peri," though detached numbers from it are frequently given with
great success. The inadequacy of the poem has much to do with this; and
it must also be remembered that it was written at a time when Schumann's
powers had begun to weaken under the strain of the mental disorder which
finally proved fatal. Reissmann, in his analysis of the work, says:--

"The man who had hitherto refused to allow even the simplest
composition to flow from any but a distinct idea, who constantly strove
to enter into relations with some distinct movement of the heart or the
imagination, here grasped at a poem utterly destitute of any rational
fundamental idea, and so arbitrary in execution, so tasteless in parts,
that the musical inspiration it offered could never have moved any
other composer to set it to music."

The Minstrel's Curse.

"The Minstrel's Curse," for solo voice, chorus and orchestra, was written
in 1852, and first performed in the same year. Its text is based upon
Uhland's beautiful ballad of the same name, which was adapted for the
composer by Richard Pohl. The libretto shows numerous variations from the
original text. Some of the verses are literally followed, others are
changed, and many new songs and motives are introduced. Several of
Uhland's other ballads are assigned to the minstrel, the youth, and the
queen, among them "Die Drei Lieder," "Entsagung," and "Hohe Liebe," as
well as extracts from "Rudello," "Lied des Deutschen Sängers," "Gesang
und Krieg," and "Das Thal." Instead of the beautiful verse in the
original poem:--

"They sing of spring and love, of happy golden youth,
Of freedom, manly worth, of sanctity and truth.
They sing of all emotions sweet the human breast that move,
They sing of all things high the human heart doth love.
The courtly crowd around forget to sneer and nod,
The king's bold warriors bow before their God.
The queen, to pleasure and to melancholy willing prey,
Down to the singers casts the rose which on her bosom lay,"--

which leads up to the tragedy, it is the singing of the "Hohe Liebe"
which is made the motive by Pohl, who from this point on follows the
story as told by Uhland.

The work contains fourteen numbers. The first two verses, describing the
castle and its haughty monarch, are sung by the narrator, and are
followed by an alto solo, very bright and joyous in style, which tells of
the arrival of the two minstrels. The fourth number is a Provençal song,
full of grace and poetical feeling, sung by the youth, followed by full
chorus. The King angrily interposes in the next number, "Enough of Spring
and Pleasure," whereupon the harper sings a beautiful ballad interpolated
by the librettist. The queen follows with a quiet, soothing strain,
appealing for further songs, and in reply the youth and harper once more
sing of spring. The youth's powerful song of love, which changes to a
trio in the close, the queen and harper joining, indicates the coming
tragedy, and from this number on the chorus follows the story as told by
Uhland, with great power and spirit. The general style of the work is
declamatory, but in many of its episodes the ballad form is used with
great skill and effect.

SINGER.

Otto Singer was born in Saxony, July 26, 1833, and attended the Leipsic
Conservatory from 1851 to 1855, studying with Richter, Moscheles, and
Hauptmann. In 1859 he went to Dresden and for two years thereafter
studied with Liszt, of whom he was not only a favorite scholar but always
a most zealous advocate. In 1867 he came to this country to take a
position in the Conservatory at New York, then under the direction of
Theodore Thomas and William Mason. In 1873, upon Mr. Thomas's suggestion,
he went to Cincinnati and became the assistant musical director of the
festival chorus of that city, a position which he filled with eminent
ability for several years. At the festival of 1878 he conducted the first
performance of Liszt's "Graner Mass" in this country, and also his own
"Festival Ode" set to a poem by F. A. Schmitt, and written to commemorate
the dedication of the new Music Hall. In the same year the Cincinnati
College of Music was organized, and he was engaged as one of the
principal instructors, a position which he still holds, and in which he
has displayed signal ability. Mr. Singer has written many compositions
for piano and orchestra, and besides his "Festival Ode," the cantata
"Landing of the Pilgrims" (1876).

The Landing of the Pilgrims.

"The Landing of the Pilgrims," written in 1876, was Mr. Singer's
Centennial offering to the patriotic music of that year. The text of the
cantata is the familiar poem written by Mrs. Felicia Hemans, which was
first set to music by her own sister, Miss Browne, though in somewhat
different style from this work of the modern school.

The cantata opens with an instrumental prelude which gives out the
principal motive as we afterwards find it set to the words, "With their
Hymns of lofty Cheer;" and truly lofty cheer it is, that antique, strong
melody. Breathed softly at first, as from afar, it is repeated after a
rapid crescendo with the whole weight of the orchestra, to melt away
again on an organ point in more subdued tone-color. In the second
movement (andante) it appears in quadruple time, augmented in its cadence
by a chromatic harmony which serves well to enrich the working-up of this
fine piece of orchestral writing. A short interlude containing the germ
of a second theme, which afterwards appears at the words, "This was their
Welcome Home," now prepares the entrance of the voices. To the words,
"The breaking Waves dashed high," the basses and tenors give out the
first motive, and after declaiming the stormy opening lines of the poem
break forth in unison with "When a Band of Exiles moored their Bark on
the wild New England Shore." The time again changing, the composer very
happily contrasts the phrases, "Not as a Conqueror comes" and "They the
true-hearted came." Soon, however, the ever-pliable principal theme falls
into a martial stride, and a very effective setting of the words, "Not
with the Roll of stirring Drums," concludes the opening male chorus. Here
follows the Centennial Hymn as given out in the beginning, sung first by
an alto voice, and repeated by the full chorus of mixed voices. After the
close, the orchestra, dreaming along in the spell, as it were, seems to
spiritualize the sturdy Pilgrim Fathers into meek Pilgrims of the
Cross,--a piece of exquisite tenderness, Liszt-Wagnerish, and yet
beautiful. After some alto recitatives and short choral phrases, the
leading theme once more enters with heavy martial step to the words,
"There was Manhood's Brow," etc. The musical setting of the question,
"What sought they?" etc., is cast in simpler form, and the response,
"They sought a Faith's pure Shrine," is given in six measures, _a
capella_, for five voices. This brings us to the last movement, _andante
maestoso_. The leading motive, now contracted into one measure, is tossed
about in the double basses as on the waves of a heavy surf until it
reaches the climax on the words "Freedom to worship God." The cantata
forms a valuable addition to our musical literature, and was first sung
by the Cincinnati Harmonic Society, of which Mr. Singer was leader at the
time.

SMART.

Henry Smart, one of the most prominent of the modern English composers,
was born in London, Oct. 26, 1813. Though almost entirely self-taught, he
soon made his mark as a musician of more than ordinary ability. For many
years he was principally known as an organist and organ-writer. He wrote
numerous compositions for that instrument, which are still largely in
use, and from 1836 to 1864 was famous in London for his contributions to
the church service. In 1855 his opera, "Bertha, or the Gnome of
Hartzburg," was produced with success in that city. Among his festival
works were the cantatas, "The Bride of Dunkerron," for Birmingham (1864);
"King René's Daughter" and "The Fishermaidens," for female voices (1871);
the sacred cantata "Jacob," for Glasgow (1873); and two anthems for
solos, chorus, and organ, for the London Choral Choirs' Association
Festivals of 1876 and 1878. As a writer of part-songs he has also
achieved a wide reputation. Grove states that he also was "a very
accomplished mechanic, and had he taken up engineering instead of music,
would no doubt have been successful. As a designer of organs he was often
employed." Shortly after 1864 he lost his sight and thereafter composed
entirely by dictation. His services for music secured him a government
pension in June, 1879, but he did not live to enjoy it, dying July 6 of
the same year.

The Bride of Dunkerron.

"The Bride of Dunkerron," words by Frederick Enoch, was written for the
Birmingham Festival of 1864, and is based upon a tradition, the scene
located at the Castle of Dunkerron, on the coast of Kerry, which has also
been made the subject of a ballad by Crofton Croker. The story is a very
simple one. The Lord of Dunkerron becomes enamoured of a sea-maiden, and
as she is unable to leave her element he follows her to her abode. She
seeks the Sea-King to obtain his consent to their union, but returns to
her lover with the sad message that she is doomed to death for loving a
mortal. He in turn is driven from the Sea-King's realm, and is cast back
by the tempest to the shores of the upper world; and the work closes with
the laments of the sea-spirits for the maiden, and of the serfs for their
master.

After an expressive orchestral introduction the cantata opens with a
chorus of the serfs (tenors and basses) ("Ere the Wine-cup is dry"),
followed by a very romantic chorus of sea-maidens, the two at times
interwoven and responsive,--the one describing Lord Dunkerron's nightly
vigils on the seashore, and the other the melody of the maidens which
tempts him. A charming orchestral intermezzo, full of the feeling of the
sea, ensues, and is followed by recitative and aria ("The full Moon is
beaming") for Dunkerron, which is very simple in style but effective as a
song, even apart from its setting. It leads up to another chorus of the
sea-maidens ("Let us sing, the moonlit Shores along") and a long love
dialogue between Dunkerron and the Maiden. The next number is a very
spirited and picturesque chorus ("Down through the Deep") describing the
passage of the lovers to the Maiden's home, which is followed by a
sturdy, sonorous recitative and aria for bass voice ("Oh, the Earth is
fair in Plain and Glade") sung by the Sea-King. Two very attractive
choruses follow, the first ("O Storm King, hear us") with a solo for the
Sea-King, and the second ("Hail to thee, Child of the Earth") by the
sea-maidens. Another graceful melody, "Our Home shall be on this bright
Isle," is assigned to the Maiden, leading to a duet with Dunkerron, in
which she announces her departure to obtain the Sea-King's consent to
their union. A chorus of the storm-spirits ("Roar, Wind of the Tempest,
roar") indicates her doom and leads up to the finale. A powerful trio for
the Maiden, Dunkerron, and Sea-King, followed by the angry commands of
the latter ("Hurl him back!"), tells of the death of the lovers, and the
work closes as it opened, with the intermingled choruses of serfs and
sea-maidens, this time, however, full of lamentation over the sad
tragedy.

King René's Daughter.

"King René's Daughter," a cantata for female voices only, the poem by
Frederick Enoch, was written in 1871. The story is freely adapted from
Henrik Hertz's lyric drama. Iolanthe, the daughter of King René, Count of
Provence, was betrothed in her infancy to the son of the Count of
Vaudemont. When but a year old she was stricken with blindness. She has
been reared in ignorance of her affliction by a strict concealment from
her of all knowledge of the blessings of sight. A wandering magician
agrees to cure her by the use of an amulet, provided she is first
informed of the existence of the missing sense; but her father refuses
permission. Her betrothed has never seen her, but wandering one day
through the valley of Vaucluse, singing his troubadour lays, he beholds
her, and is captivated by her beauty. His song reveals to her the faculty
of which she has been kept in ignorance, and the magician, his condition
thus having been fulfilled, restores her to sight.

The work is divided into thirteen numbers, the solo parts being Iolanthe
(soprano), Martha (mezzo-soprano), and Beatrice (contralto). In the third
number another soprano voice is required in a trio and chorus of
vintagers; and in the sixth number, a soprano and contralto in the
quartet, which acts the part of narrator, and tells of the troubadour's
rose song to Iolanthe. It is unnecessary to specify the numbers in
detail, as they are of the same general character,--smooth, flowing, and
graceful in melody throughout. The most striking of them are No. 3, trio
and chorus ("See how gay the Valley shines"); No. 5, arietta for Martha
("Listening to the Nightingales"); No. 6, quartet ("Who hath seen the
Troubadour?"); No. 8, Iolanthe's song ("I love the Rose"); No. 11, duet
and chorus ("Sweet the Angelus is ringing"); and the finale, with the
jubilant chorus:--

"René the king will ride forth from the gate
With his horsemen and banners in state;
And the trumpets shall fanfaron ring
To René, to René, the king.
Then with rebec and lute and with drum
The bride in her beauty will come;
And the light of her eyes, they will say, has surpassed
The diamonds that shine at her waist,--
The diamonds that shine in her long golden hair,--
King René's daughter the fair."

SULLIVAN.

Arthur Seymour Sullivan was born in London, May 13, 1842. His father, a
band-master and clarinet-player of distinction, intrusted his musical
education at first to the Rev. Thomas Hilmore, master of the children of
the Chapel Royal. He entered the chapel in 1854 and remained there three
years, and also studied in the Royal Academy of Music under Goss and
Sterndale Bennett, during this period, leaving the latter institution in
1858, in which year he went to Leipsic. He remained in the Conservatory
there until 1861, when he returned to London and introduced himself to
its musical public, with his music to Shakspeare's "Tempest," which made
a great success. The enthusiasm with which this was received, and the
favors he gained at the hands of Chorley, at that time musical critic of
the "Athenæum," gave him a secure footing. The cantata "Kenilworth,"
written for the Birmingham Festival, the music to the ballet "L'Île
enchantée," and an opera, "The Sapphire Necklace," were produced in 1864.
In 1866 appeared his first symphony and an overture, "In Memoriam," a
tribute to his father, who died that year. The next year his overture
"Marmion" was first performed. In 1869 he wrote his first oratorio, "The
Prodigal son," in 1873 "The Light of the World," and in 1880 "The Martyr
of Antioch;" the first for the Worcester, the second for the Birmingham,
and the third for the Leeds festival. The beautiful "Overture di Ballo,"
so frequently played in this country by the Thomas orchestra, was written
for Birmingham in 1870, and the next year appeared his brilliant little
cantata, "On shore and Sea." On the 11th of May, 1867, was first heard in
public his comic operetta, "Cox and Box." It was the first in that series
of extraordinary successes, really dating from "The Sorcerer," which are
almost without parallel in the operatic world, and which have made his
name, and that of his collaborator, Gilbert, household words. He has done
much for sacred as well as secular music. In addition to his oratorios he
has written numerous anthems, forty-seven hymn tunes, two Te Deums,
several carols, part-songs, and choruses, and in 1872 edited the
collection of "Church Hymns with Tunes" for the Christian Knowledge
Society. His latest works are the opera "Ruddygore" and the cantata "The
Golden Legend," both written in 1886. He received the honorary degree of
Doctor of Music from Cambridge in 1876, and from Oxford in 1879, and in
1883 was knighted by the Queen.

On Shore and Sea.

The cantata "On Shore and Sea" was written for the London International
Exhibition of 1871. The solo parts are allotted to La Sposina, a Riviera
woman, and Il Marinajo, a Genoese sailor. The action passes in the
sixteenth century, at a port of the Riviera and on board of a Genoese and
Moorish galley at sea. The cantata opens with a joyous sailors' chorus
and the lament of the mothers and wives as the seamen weigh anchor and
set sail. The scene then changes to the sea. On board one of the galleys,
in the midnight watch, the Marinajo invokes the protection of Our Lady,
Star of the Sea, for the loved one left behind. The scene next changes to
the return of the fleet, triumphant in its encounters with the Moorish
vessels. The women throng to the shore, headed by La Sposina, to welcome
the sailors back, but the galley on board which her lover served is
missing. It has been captured by the Moors, and in a pathetic song she
gives expression to her sorrow. In the next scene we find him toiling at
the oar at the bidding of his Moorish masters. While they are revelling
he plans a rising among his fellow-captives which is successful. They
seize the galley and steer back to the Riviera, entering port amid
choruses of rejoicing. The cantata is full of charming melodies, the
instrumentation is Oriental in color, and the choruses, particularly the
closing ones, are very stirring.

The Golden Legend.

"The Golden Legend" was first produced at the Leeds Musical Festival,
Oct. 16, 1886. The story of the legend has already been told in the
description of Mr. Buck's cantata by the same name, which took the
Cincinnati Festival prize in 1880. The adaptation of Mr. Longfellow's
poem for the Sullivan cantata was made by Joseph Bennett, who while
omitting its mystical parts, except the prologue, has confined himself to
the story of Prince Henry and Elsie. All the principal scenes, though
sometimes rearranged to suit the musical demands of the composer, have
been retained, so that the unity of the legend is preserved.

The prologue, representing the effort of Lucifer and the spirits of the
air to tear down the cathedral cross, is used without change. The part of
Lucifer is assigned to the barytone voice, the spirits of the air to the
sopranos and altos, and the bells to the tenors and basses, the whole
closing with the Gregorian Chant. The orchestral accompaniment is very
realistic, particularly in the storm music and in the final number, where
the organ adds its voice to the imposing harmony. The first scene opens
with the soliloquy of Prince Henry in his chamber ("I cannot sleep"),
followed by a dramatic duet with Lucifer, describing the temptation, and
closes with a second solo by the Prince, accompanied by a warning chorus
of angels. The second scene opens before the cottage of Ursula at
evening, with a short alto recitative ("Slowly, slowly up the Wall") with
pastoral accompaniment, followed by a very effective choral hymn ("O
Gladsome Light") sung by the villagers ere they depart for their homes,
the Prince's voice joining in the Amen. The remainder of the scene
includes a dialogue between Elsie and her mother, in which the maid
expresses her determination to die for the Prince, and a beautiful prayer
("My Redeemer and my Lord") in which she pleads for strength to carry out
her resolution, closing with her noble offer to the Prince, which he
accepts, the angels responding Amen to the blessing he asks for her.

The third scene opens with Elsie, the Prince, and their attendants on the
road to Salerno where the cure is to be effected by her sacrifice. They
fall in with a band of pilgrims, among whom is Lucifer in the disguise of
a monk. The two bands part company, and as night comes on the Prince's
attendants encamp near the sea. The continuity of the narrative is varied
by a simple, graceful duet for the Prince and Elsie ("Sweet is the Air
with budding Haws"); the Gregorian music of the pilgrims in the distance
("Cujus clavis lingua Petri"); the mocking characteristic song of Lucifer
("Here am I too in the pious Band"), interwoven with the chant; the song
of greeting to the sea by the Prince ("It is the Sea"); and a very
effective solo for Elsie ("The Night is calm and cloudless"), which is
repeated by full chorus with soprano obligato dwelling upon the words
"Christe Eleison." The fourth scene opens in the Medical School at
Salerno, and discloses Lucifer disguised as the physician Friar Angelo,
who receives Elsie and takes her into an inner apartment, notwithstanding
the protests of the Prince, who suddenly resolves to save her, and
finally effects her rescue. The music to this scene is very dramatic, and
it also contains a short but striking unaccompanied chorus ("O Pure in
Heart").

The fifth scene is short. It passes at the door of Ursula's cottage,
where a forester brings the mother the news of Elsie's safety and of the
Prince's miraculous cure. The dialogue is followed by a prayer of
thanksgiving ("Virgin, who lovest the Poor and Lowly"). The last scene
opens on the terrace of the castle of Vautsberg. It is the evening of the
wedding day, and amid the sound of bells heard in the distance the Prince
relates to Elsie the story of Charlemagne and Fastrada, at the close of
which the happy pair join in an exultant duet. The cantata ends with a
choral epilogue, worked up to a fine fugal climax in which Elsie's "deed
divine" is compared to the mountain brook flowing down from "the cool
hills" to bless "the broad and arid plain."

WAGNER.

Richard Wagner, who has been sometimes ironically called the musician of
the future, and whose music has been relegated to posterity by a
considerable number of his contemporaries, was born at Leipsic, May 22,
1813. After his preliminary studies in Dresden and Leipsic, he took his
first lessons in music from Cantor Weinlig. In 1836 he was appointed
musical director in the theatre at Magdeburg, and later occupied the same
position at Königsberg. Thence he went to Riga, where he began his opera
"Rienzi." He then went to Paris by sea, was nearly shipwrecked on his way
thither, and landed without money or friends. After two years of hard
struggling he returned to Germany. His shipwreck and forlorn condition
suggested the theme of "The Flying Dutchman," and while on his way to
Dresden he passed near the castle of Wartburg, in the valley of
Thuringia, whose legends inspired his well-known opera of "Tannhäuser."
He next removed to Zurich, and about this time appeared "Lohengrin," his
most popular opera. "Tristan and Isolde" was produced in 1856, and his
comic opera, "Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg," three years later. In 1864
he received the patronage of King Louis of Bavaria, which enabled him to
complete and perform his great work, "Der Ring der Nibelungen." He laid
the foundation of the new theatre at Baireuth in 1872, and in 1875 the
work was produced, and created a profound sensation all over the musical
world. "Parsifal," his last opera, was first performed in 1882. His works
have aroused great opposition, especially among conservative musicians,
for the reason that he has set at defiance the conventional operatic
forms, and in carrying out his theory of making the musical and dramatic
elements of equal importance, and employing the former as the language of
the latter in natural ways, has made musical declamation take the place
of set melody, and swept away the customary arias, duets, quartets, and
concerted numbers of the Italian school, to suit the dramatic exigencies
of the situations. Besides his musical compositions, he enjoys almost
equal fame as a littérateur, having written not only his own librettos,
but four important works,--"Art and the Revolution," "The Art Work of the
Future," "Opera and Drama," and "Judaism in Music." His music has made
steady progress through the efforts of such advocates as Liszt, Von
Bülow, and Richter in Germany, Pasdeloup in France, Hueffer in England,
and Theodore Thomas in the United States. In 1870 he married Frau Cosima
von Bülow, the daughter of Liszt,--an event which produced almost as much
comment in social circles as his operas have in musical. He died during a
visit to Venice, Feb. 13, 1883.

Love Feast of the Apostles.

"Das Liebesmahl der Apostel" ("The Love Feast of the Apostles"), a
Biblical scene for male voices and orchestra, dedicated to Frau Charlotte
Emilie Weinlig, the widow of the composer's old teacher, was written in
1843, the year after "Rienzi," and was first performed in the
Frauen-Kirche in Dresden at the Men's Singing Festival, July 6 of that
year.

The work opens with a full chorus of Disciples ("Gegrüsst seid, Brüder,
in des Herren Namen"), who have gathered together for mutual help and
strength to endure the persecutions with which they are afflicted. The
movement flows on quietly, though marked by strong contrasts, for several
measures, after which the chorus is divided, a second and third chorus
taking up the two subjects, "Uns droht der Mächt'gen Hass," and "O fasst
Vertrau'n," gradually accelerating and working up to a climax, and
closing pianissimo ("Der Mächt'gen Späh'n verfolgt uns überall").

In the next number the Apostles enter (twelve bass voices) with a
sonorous welcome ("Seid uns gegrüsst, ihr lieben Brüder"), reinforced by
the Disciples, pianissimo ("Wir sind versammelt im Namen Jesu Christi"),
the united voices at last in powerful strains ("Allmächt'ger Vater, der
du hast gemacht Himmel und Erd' und Alles was darin") imploring divine
help and the sending of the Holy Ghost to comfort them. At its close
voices on high are heard ("Seid getrost, ich bin euch nah, und mein Geist
ist mit euch"). The Disciples reply with increasing vigor ("Welch Brausen
erfüllt die Luft"). The Apostles encourage them to steadfast reliance
upon the Spirit ("Klein müthige! Hört an was jetzt der Geist zu Künden
uns gebeut"), and the work comes to a close with a massive chorale ("Denn
ihm ist alle Herrlichkeit von Ewigkeit zu Ewigkeit"), worked up with
overpowering dramatic force, particularly in the instrumentation. Though
but a small composition compared with the masterpieces for the stage
which followed it, it is peculiarly interesting in its suggestions of the
composer's great dramatic power which was to find its fruition in the
later works from his pen.

WEBER.

Carl Maria von Weber was born Dec. 18, 1786, at Eutin, and may almost be
said to have been born on the stage, as his father was at the head of a
theatrical company, and the young Carl was carried in the train of the
wandering troupe all over Germany. His first lessons were given to him by
Henschkel, conductor of the orchestra of Duke Friedrich of Meiningen. At
the age of fourteen he wrote his first opera, "Das Waldmädchen," which
was performed several times during the year 1800. In 1801 appeared his
two-act comic opera, "Peter Schmoll and his Neighbors," and during these
two years he also frequently played in concerts with great success. He
then studied with the Abbé Vogler, and in his eighteenth year was engaged
for the conductorship of the Breslau opera. About this time appeared his
first important opera, "Rubezahl." At the conclusion of his studies with
Vogler he was made director of the opera at Prague. In 1816 he went to
Berlin, where he was received with the highest marks of popular esteem,
and thence to Dresden as hofcapellmeister. This was the most brilliant
period in his career. It was during this time that he married Caroline
Brandt, the actress and singer, who had had a marked influence upon his
musical progress, and to whom he dedicated his exquisite "Invitation to
the Dance." The first great work of his life, "Der Freischütz,"
was written at this period. Three other important operas
followed,--"Preciosa," "Euryanthe," the first performance of which took
place in Vienna in 1823, and "Oberon," which he finished in London and
brought out there. Weber's last days were spent in the latter city, and
it was while making preparations to return to Germany, which he longed to
see again, that he was stricken down with his final illness. On the 4th
of June, 1826, he was visited by Sir George Smart, Moscheles, and other
musicians who were eager to show him attention. He declined to have any
one watch by his bedside, thanked them for their kindness, bade them
good-by, and then turned to his friend Fürstenau, and said, "Now let me
sleep." These were his last words. The next morning he was found dead in
his bed. He has left a rich legacy of works besides his operas,--a large
collection of songs, many cantatas (of which the "Jubilee" and "Kampf und
Sieg" are the finest), some masses, of which that in E flat is the most
beautiful, and several concertos, besides many brilliant rondos,
polaccas, and marches for the piano.

Jubilee Cantata.

The "Jubilee Cantata" was written in 1818 to celebrate the fiftieth
anniversary of the reign of King Friedrich August of Saxony. The King
having expressed a desire that there should be a court concert on the day
of the anniversary, September 20, Count Vitzthum commissioned Weber to
write a grand jubilee cantata. The poet Friedrich Kind supplied the
words. While engaged in its composition Weber was informed by friends
that other arrangements were being made for the concert, and on the 12th
of September the information was confirmed by a letter from the Count
which informed him that notwithstanding his personal protests, the
Jubilee Cantata was not to be given. The son in his biography of his
father intimates that the change was the result of intrigues on the part
of his Italian rivals, Morlacchi, Zingarelli, and Nicolini. The same
authority says that the cantata was finally produced in the Neustadt
church for the benefit of the destitute peasantry in the Hartz mountains,
Weber himself conducting the performance, and that only the overture to
the work, now famous the world over as the "Jubel," was played at the
court concert. The best authorities, however, now believe that the Jubel
overture is an entirely independent work, having no connection with the
cantata. The text of the cantata, which commemorates many special events
in the life of the King, being found unsuitable for general performance,
a second text was subsequently written by Amadeus Wendt, under the title
of "Ernte-Cantata" ("Harvest Cantata") which is the one now in common
use, although still another version was made under the name of "The
Festival of Peace," by Hampdon Napier, which was used at a performance in
London under the direction of the composer himself only a few days before
his death.

The cantata is written for the four solo voices, chorus, and orchestra.
It opens after a short allegro movement with a full jubilant chorus
("Your thankful Songs upraise"), the solo quartet joining in the middle
part with chorus. The second number is a very expressive recitative and
aria for tenor ("Happy Nation, still receiving"). The third is
characterized by quiet beauty, and is very devotional in spirit. It
begins with a soprano recitative and aria ("Yet not alone of Labor comes
our Plenty"), leading up to a second recitative and aria ("The gracious
Father hears us when we call"), which are very vivacious in style,
closing with a tenor recitative ("The Air is mild and clear and grateful
to the Reapers"). These prepare the way for a short but very powerful
chorus ("Woe! see the Storm-Clouds"). In the next number ("How fearful
are the Terrors Nature brings") the bass voice moralizes on the powers of
Nature, followed by a plaintive strain for two sopranos, which leads up
to a majestic prayer for chorus ("Lord Almighty, full of Mercy"). A bass
recitative ("Lo, once our Prayer") introduces a beautiful quartet and
chorus of thanksgiving ("Wreathe into Garlands the Gold of the Harvest").
They are followed by a tenor recitative and soprano solo ("Soon noble
Fruit by Toil was won"), and the work comes to a close with a stately
chorus of praise ("Father, reigning in Thy Glory").

Kampf und Sieg.

In June, 1815, Weber arrived in Munich and during his stay made the
acquaintance of Fraulein Wohlbrück, the singer, which led to an
introduction to her father, who was both an actor and a poet. On the very
day that he met Wohlbrück, the news came to Munich of the victory of the
Allies at Waterloo, the whole city was decorated and illuminated, and a
great crowd, Weber with them, went to St. Michael's Church to listen to a
Te Deum. While there the idea of a grand cantata in commemoration of the
victory came into his mind. On his return home he met Wohlbrück and
communicated his purpose to him. The enthusiastic poet agreed to furnish
the words. About the first of August the text was placed in Weber's
hands, and he at once set it to music. It was first produced on the 22d
of December at Prague, and made a profound impression by its stirring
military character and vivid battle-descriptions.

The cantata is written for the four solo voices, chorus of sopranos,
altos, two tenors, and basses and orchestra. A stirring orchestral
introduction leads up to a people's chorus which describes the
disappearance of dissensions heralding the approach of victory. No. 3 is
a bass solo entitled "Faith," with a delightful violoncello
accompaniment. In No. 4, Love (soprano) and Hope (tenor) join with Faith
in a song full of feeling. No. 5 is a soldiers' chorus of an enthusiastic
and martial character, while in the distance is heard the Austrian
Grenadier's march mingling with it. In the next number the approach of
the enemy is heard as the chorus closes with the majestic phrase, "Mit
Gott sei unser Werk gethan." The lively march of the enemy comes nearer
and nearer, interwoven with the next chorus, which is set to Körner's
prayer "Wie auch die Hölle braust." Then follows the opening of the
battle, with the roar of cannon, the shouts of the soldiers, and the
cries of the wounded, through which is heard the French national air
defiantly sounding. Another soldiers' chorus follows. It pictures the
advance of the Prussian Jägers ("Ha! welch ein Klang"), followed by the
simple strains of "God save the King!" In No. 9 the fight is renewed, the
music reaching a pitch of almost ferocious energy, until the joyous cry
is heard, "Hurrah! Er flieht," and the triumphant march of victory
emphasizes the exultant pæan, "Heil dir im Siegerkranz." The rest of the
cantata is purely lyrical in style. Once more the voices of "Faith" and
"Love" are heard, leading up to the final majestic chorus, "Herr Gott,
Dich loben wir," accompanying a solo voice chanting the theme "Gieb und
erhalte den Frieden der Welt."

WHITING.

George Elbridge Whiting was born at Holliston, Mass., Sept. 14, 1842. He
began the study of the piano at a very early age, but soon abandoned it
for the organ. His progress was so rapid that at the age of thirteen he
made his public appearance as a player. In 1857 he went to Hartford,
Conn., where he had accepted a position in one of the churches, and while
there organized the Beethoven Society. In 1862 he removed to Boston, but
shortly afterwards went to England, where he studied the organ for a year
with Best. On his return he was engaged as organist of St. Joseph's
Church, Albany, N. Y., but his ambition soon took him to Europe again.
This time he went to Berlin and finished his studies with Radecke and
Haupt. He then returned to Albany and remained there three years, leaving
that city to accept a position at the church of the Immaculate
Conception, Boston. In 1874 he was appointed organist at the Music Hall,
and was also for some time at the head of the organ department of the New
England Conservatory of Music. In 1878 he was organist for the third
Cincinnati May Festival, and in 1879 accepted a position in the College
of Music in that city, at the same time taking charge of the organ in the
Music Hall, with what success those who attended the May Festivals in
that city will remember. He remained in Cincinnati three years and then
returned to his old position in Boston. Mr. Whiting ranks in the first
class of American organists, and has also been a prolific composer. Among
his vocal works are a mass in C minor (1872); mass in F minor (1874);
prologue to Longfellow's "Golden Legend" (1873); cantatas, "Dream
Pictures" (1877), "The Tale of the Viking" (1880); a concert overture
("The Princess"); a great variety of organ music, including "The
Organist," containing twelve pieces for that instrument, and "the First
Six Months on the Organ," with twenty-five studies; several concertos,
fantasies, and piano compositions, and a large number of songs.

The Tale of the Viking.

"The Tale of the Viking" was written in competition for the prize offered
by the Cincinnati Musical Festival Association in 1879, and though
unsuccessful, is still regarded as one of the most admirable and
scholarly works yet produced in this country. The text of the cantata is
Longfellow's "Skeleton in Armor," that weird and stirring story of the
Viking, which the poet so ingeniously connected with the old mill at
Newport.

The work comprises ten numbers, and is written for three solo voices
(soprano, tenor, and barytone), chorus, and orchestra. A long but very
expressive overture, full of the dramatic sentiment of the poem, prepares
the way for the opening number, a short male chorus:--

"'Speak! speak! thou fearful guest
Who, with thy hollow breast
Still in rude armor drest,
Comest to daunt me!
Wrapt not in Eastern balms,
But with thy fleshless palms
Stretched, as if asking alms,
Why dost thou haunt me?'"

Next comes a powerful chorus for mixed voices ("Then from those cavernous
Eyes"), which leads up to the opening of the Viking's story ("I was a
Viking old"), a barytone solo, which is made very dramatic by the skilful
division of the song between recitative and the melody. In the fourth
number the male chorus continues the narrative ("But when I older grew"),
describing in a vivacious and spirited manner the wild life of the
marauders on the sea and their winter wassails as they told the Berserker
legends over their cups of ale. In the fifth the soprano voice tells of
the wooing of "The blue-eyed Maid" in an aria ("Once, as I told in Glee")
remarkable for its varying shades of expression. At its close a brilliant
march movement, very sonorous in style and highly colored, introduces a
vigorous chorus ("Bright in her Father's Hall"), which describes the
refusal of old Hildebrand to give his daughter's hand to the Viking. A
dramatic solo for barytone ("She was a Prince's Child") pictures the
flight of the dove with the sea-mew, which is followed by a chorus of
extraordinary power as well as picturesqueness ("Scarce had I put to
Sea"), vividly describing the pursuit, the encounter, and the Viking's
escape with his bride. A graceful but pathetic romance for tenor ("There
lived we many Years"), which relates her death, and burial beneath the
tower, leads to the closing number, a soprano solo with a full stately
chorus, admirably worked up, picturing the death of the Viking, who falls
upon his spear, and ending in an exultant and powerful burst of harmony,
set to the words:--

"'Thus, seamed with many scars,
Bursting these prison bars,
Up to its native stars
My soul ascended;
There from the flowing bowl
Deep drinks the warrior's soul,
_Skoal_! to the Northland! _skoal_!'
Thus the tale ended."

APPENDIX.

The following alphabetical list has been prepared to present the reader
with the titles of the more important cantatas by well-known composers
and the dates of their composition. To make an exhaustive catalogue of
works of this class would be impossible, as a great number have been lost
entirely, and hundreds of others are now only known by name; but the
writer believes that those subjoined will provide musical students, as
well as the general reader, with as complete a reference list as can be
desired.

Adam, Adolphe.
Le Premiers Pas (1847);
La Fête des Arts (1852);
Chant de Victoire (1855);
Birth of the Prince Imperial (1856).
Anderton, Thomas.
The Song of Deborah and Barak (1871);
The Wreck of the Hesperus (1882);
The Norman Baron (1884);
Yuletide (1885).
Arnold, Samuel.
Sennacherib (1774).
Aspa, Edward.
The Gypsies (1870);
Endymion (1875).
Astorga, Emanuele.
Quando penso (1706);
Torne Aprile (1706);
In questo core (1707);
Dafni (1709).
Bach, John Sebastian.
Two hundred and twenty-six sacred cantatas, of which the following
are most commonly sung: Ich hatte viel Bekümmerniss; Festo
Ascensionis Christi; Ein' Feste Burg (Reformation festival of 1717);
Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich; Christ unser Herr zum Jordan kam; Ehre
sei Gott in der Höhe (Christmas cantata); Gottes Zeit ist die
allerbeste Zeit (mourning cantata); Lobe den Herrn (New Year's Day);
O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort; Gott ist mein König; Wie schön leucht uns
der Morgenstern.
Twenty-eight birthday, funeral, and secular cantatas: among them,
Komische cantate, Kaffee cantate, Bauern oder Hochzeit's cantate.
Balfe, Michael.
Mazeppa (1862);
The Page (?).
Barnby, Joseph.
Rebekah (1870).
Barnett, John Francis.
The Ancient Mariner (1867);
Paradise and the Peri (1870);
Lay of the Last Minstrel (1874);
The Good Shepherd (1876);
The Building of the Ship (1880).
Beethoven, Ludwig von.
Der Glorreiche Augenblick (1814);
Meeresstille und glücklich Fahrt (1815).
Bendall, Wilfred.
Parizadeh (1870);
The Lady of Shalott (1871).
Benedict, Julius.
Undine (1860);
Richard Coeur de Leon (1863);
Legend of St. Cecilia (1866);
Legend of St. Elizabeth (1867);
St. Peter (1870);
Graziella (1882).
Bennett, William Sterndale.
May Queen (1858);
International Exhibition Ode (1862);
Cambridge Installation Ode (1862).
Berlioz, Hector.
Sardanaple (1830);
Romeo and Juliet (dramatic symphony with solos and chorus) (1839);
Damnation of Faust (dramatic scenes) (1846);
L'Imperiale (1855);
Le Cinq Mai (1857).
Bishop, Henry.
The Seventh Day (1840).
Boito, Arrigo.
Ode to Art (1880).
Brahms, Johannes.
Rinaldo (1868);
Rhapsodie (1870);
Schicksalslied (1871);
Triumphlied (1873);
Gesang der Parzen (1877);
Boadicea (1878).
Bridge, John Frederick.
Rock of Ages (1880);
Boadicea (1880).
Bristow, George Frederick.
Daniel (1876).
Bronsart, Hans von.
Christmarkt (1876).
Bruch, Max.
Die Birken und die Erlen (1853);
Jubilate-Amen (1856);
Rinaldo (1858);
Rorate Coeli (1861);
Frithjof's Saga (1862);
Salamis (1862);
Die Flucht der heilige Familie (1863);
Gesang der heiligen drei Könige (1864);
Römischer Triumphgesang (1864);
Römische Leichenfeier (1864);
Schön Ellen (1869);
Odysseus (1872);
Arminius (1873);
Normannenzug (1874);
Song of the Bell (1876);
Achilleus (1885).
Brüll, Ignaz.
Die Gesternähren (1875).
Buck, Dudley.
Forty-sixth Psalm (1872);
Don Munio (1874);
Centennial Cantata (1876);
The Nun of Nidaros (1878);
Golden Legend (1880);
Voyage of Columbus (1885);
Light of Asia (1886).
Caldicott, Alfred James.
La Primavera (1880);
The Widow of Nain (1881);
Rhine Legend (1883);
Queen of the May (1885).
Carissimi, Giacomo.
Jephthah (1660).
Cherubini, Marie Luigi.
La Pubblica Felicità (1774);
Arnphion (1786); and seventeen others.
Cimerosa, Domenico.
La Nascita del Delfino (1786); and one hundred others.
Clay, Frederick.
The Knights of the Cross (1866);
Lalla Rookh (1877).
Corder, Frederick.
The Cyclops (1880);
The Bridal of Triermain (1886).
Costa, Michael.
The Dream (1815);
La Passione (1827).
Cowen, Frederick Hymen.
The Rose Maiden (1870);
The Corsair (1876);
St. Ursula (1881);
The Sleeping Beauty (1885).
Cummings, William Hayman.
The Fairy Ring (1873).
Damrosch, Leopold.
Ruth and Naomi (1870);
Sulamith (1877).
David, Félicien César.
The Desert (1844).
Dvorák, Anton.
Patriotic Hymn (1880);
The Spectre's Bride (1885).
Erdmannsdorfer, Max.
Prinzessin Ilse (1870);
Die Schneewittchen (1871).
Foote, Arthur.
The Legend of Hiawatha (1879).
Foster, Myles Birkett.
The Bonnie Fishwives (1880).
Fry, William Henry.
The Fall of Warsaw (1858).
Gabriel, Virginia.
Dreamland (1870);
Evangeline (1873).
Gade, Niels Wilhelm.
Comala (1843);
Spring Fantasie (1850); The Holy Night (1851);
Erl King's Daughter (1852);
Frühlingsbotschaft (1853);
Kalamus (1853);
Psyche (1856);
Zion (1860);
The Crusaders (1866).
Gadsby, Henry Robert.
Alice Brand (1870);
Lord of the Isles (1880);
Columbus (1881).
Garcia, Manuel.
Endimione (1822).
Gaul, Alfred Robert.
Ruth (1881);
The Holy City (1882).
Gernsheim, Friedrich.
Odin's Meeresritt (1860).
Gilchrist, William Wallace.
Forty-seventh Psalm (1882);
The Rose (1886).
Gleason, Frederick Grant.
God our Deliverer (1878);
The Culprit Fay (1879);
Praise of Harmony (1886).
Glover, Ferdinand.
The Fire Worshippers (1857).
Glover, William.
The Corsair (1849).
Glover, William Howard.
Tam O'Shanter (1855).
Gluck, Christoph Willibald.
Alexander's Feast (1753);
De Profundis (1760);
The Last Judgment (finished by Salieri) (1761).
Goetz, Hermann.
By the Waters of Babylon (1874);
Noenia (1875).
Goldmark, Karl.
Frühling's Hymne (1876).
Gounod, Charles François.
Marie Stuart et Rizzio (1837);
Daughters of Jerusalem (1838);
Fernand (1839);
À la Frontière (1870);
Gallia (1871).
Grieg, Edward.
Land Kennung (1865).
Halévy, Jacques Fromental.
Les Plages du Nil (1850);
Italie (1850).
Hamerik, Asger.
Friedenshymne (1868).
Handel, George Frederick.
Passion (1704);
twelve called "Hanover" (1711);
seventy-nine written in Italy (1706-1712);
Acis and Galatea (1720);
Sei del cielo (1736);
Alexander's Feast (1736);
Ode on St. Cecilia's Day (1739);
L'Allegro, il Penseroso, ed il Moderato (1740).
Hatton, John Liphot.
Robin Hood (1856).
Hauptmann, Moritz.
Herr, Herr! wende dich zum Gebet (1840);
Die lustigen Musikanten (1842).
Haydn, Joseph.
Birthday of Prince Nicholas (1763);
Applausus Musicus (1768);
Die Erwahlung eines Kapellmeisters (1769);
Ah! come il core mi palpito (1783);
Invocation of Neptune (1783);
An die Freude (1786);
Das Erndtefest (1786);
Deutschland's Klage auf den Tod Friedrichs der Grossen (1787);
Des Dichter's Geburtsfest (1787);
Hier liegt Constantia (1787);
Ariadne a Naxos (1792);
Ombra del caro bene (1798);
Der Versohnung's Tod (1809).
Heap, C. Swinnerton.
The Maid of Astolat (1885).
Hesse, Adolph Friedrich.
Sei uns gnadig, Gott der gnaden (1831);
Von Leiden ist me in Herz bedrängt (1832).
Hiller, Ferdinand.
Die lustige Musikanten (1838);
O, weint um Sie (1839);
Morning of Palm Sunday (1839);
Whitsuntide (1840);
Israel's Siegesgesang (1841);
Song of the Spirits over the Water (1842);
Prometheus (1843);
Rebecca (1843);
The Night of the Nativity (1843);
Heloise (1844);
Loreley (1845);
Die Nacht (1846);
Ostermorgen (1850);
Richard Löwenherz (1855);
An das Vaterland (1861);
Song of Victory (1871);
Song of Heloise (1871);
Nala und Damajanti (1871);
Pentecost (1872);
Prince Papagei (1872).
Himmel, Friedrich Heinrich.
La Danza (1792);
Hessan's Söhne und Prussien's Töchter (1797);
Das Vertrauen auf Gott (1797);
Funeral Cantata (1799).
Hofmann, Heinrich K.
J. Deutschland's Erhebung (1874);
Aschenbrödel (1875);
Song of the Norns (1875);
Melusina (1876);
Cinderella (1879).
Hummel, Johann Nepomuk.
Diana ed Endimione (1818).
Isouard, Nicolo.
Hebe (1813).
Jackson, William.
Lycidas (1767);
The Praise of Music (1770);
The Year (1785).
Jensen, Adolf.
Jephtha's Daughter (1864);
Donald Caird ist wieder da (1875);
The Feast of Adonis (1881).
Krug, Arnold.
Nomadenzug (1877);
Sigurd (1882).
Kücken, Friedrich.
Friedenshymne (1870).
Kuhlau, Friedrich.
Die Feier des Wohlwollens (1818).
Lachner, Franz.
Die vier Menschenalter (1843);
Der Sturm (1845);
Sixty-third Psalm (1849);
Des Krieger's Gebet (1851);
Siegesgesang (1852);
Mozart Fest Cantate (1852);
Sturmesmythe (1853);
Bundeslied (1854);
One Hundred and Fiftieth Psalm (1854).
Lahee, Henry.
Building of the Ship (1869);
The Blessing of the Children (1870).
Lassen, Edward.
Les Flamands sous van Arteveldt (1854);
The Artists (1861);
Fest Cantate (1874).
Lefébvre, Wély Louis.
Après le Victoire (1863).
Leslie, Henry David.
Judith (1858);
Holyrood (1860);
The Daughter of the Isles (1861).
Lindpaintner, Peter Joseph von.
Widow of Nain (1846).
Liszt, Franz.
Prometheus (1850);
Ave Maria (1851);
Pater Noster (1852);
Schiller Cantata (1859);
Die Seligkeiten (arranged from "Christus") (1863);
Eighteenth Psalm (1867);
Beethoven Festival Cantata (1870);
Requiem (1870);
One Hundred and Sixteenth Psalm (1873);
The Bells of Strasburg (1874);
An den heiligen Franziskus (1874);
St. Cecilia (1875);
Thirteenth Psalm (1877).
Lloyd, Charles Harford.
Hero and Leander (1884);
The Song of Balder (1885);
Andromeda (1886).
Macfarren, George Alexander.
Lenora (1852);
May Day (1857);
The Soldier's Legacy (1857);
Christmas (1860);
Songs in a Cornfield (1868);
The Lady of the Lake (1877);
Outward Bound (1877).
Mackenzie, Alexander Campbell.
The Bride (1880);
Jason (1882);
Story of Sayid (1886).
Massenet, Jules Émile Frédéric.
David Rizzio (1863);
Paix et Liberté (1867);
Mary Magdalen (1873);
Eve (1875);
Narcisse (1877).
Mendelssohn, Bartholdy Felix.
Christe, du Lamm Gottes (1827);
Ach Gott von Himmel (1827);
Humboldt Fest Cantate (1828);
Walpurgis Night (1831);
As the Hart pants (1838);
Friedrich August Fest Cantate (1842);
Lauda Sion (1846);
To the Sons of Art (1846).
Mercadante, Saverio.
L'Unione delle belli Arte (1818);
The Seven Words (1821).
Meyerbeer, Giacomo.
Seven sacred Cantatas from Klopstock (1810);
God and Nature (1810);
March of the Bavarian Archers (1816);
The Genius of Music at the Grave of Beethoven (1830);
Gutenberg Cantata (1836);
Le Festa nella Corte di Ferrara (1843);
Maria und ihr Genius (1851).
Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus.
Grabmusik (1767);
Davidde penitente (1783);
Die Seele (1783);
Die Maurer freude (1785);
La Betulia liberata (1786);
Eine Kleine Freimaurer Cantate (1791).
Neukomm, Sigismond.
Napoleon's Midnight Review (1828);
Easter Morning (1829).
Oxenford, Edward.
Crown of Roses (1886).
Pacini, Giovanni.
Dante Centenary (1865).
Paer, Ferdinand.
Bacco ed Ariadna (1804);
La Conversazione Armonica (1804);
Il Trionfo della chiesa Cattolica (1805);
Europa in Creta (1806);
Il S. Sepolcro (1815).
Paine, John Knowles.
Oedipus (1881);
Phoebus Arise (1882);
The Nativity (1883);
Realm of Fancy (1884).
Paine, Robert P.
From Death unto Life (1883);
Great is the Lord (1884);
The Lay of the Last Minstrel (1884);
A Day with our Lord (1885).
Paisiello, Giovanni.
Peleus (1763);
Achille in Sciro (1783);
Giunone Lucina (1784).
Parker, James C. D.
Redemption Hymn (1877);
The Blind King (1886).
Parker, H.
W. King Trojan (1885).
Pattison, Thomas Mee.
The Ancient Mariner (1885);
The Lay of the Last Minstrel (1885).
Pepusch, John Christopher.
Alexis (1712).
Pergolesi, Giovanni.
Siciliana (1730);
Euridice (1730).
Ponchielli, Amilcare.
Donizetti ed Mayr Cantata (1875).
Prout, Ebenezer.
Hereward (1878);
Freedom (1880);
Alfred (1881);
Queen Aimée (1885).
Raff, Joseph Joachim.
Wachet auf (1865);
Deutschland's Auferstehung (1865);
Einer Entschlaffener (1876);
One Hundred and Thirtieth Psalm, "De Profundis" (1878);
Die Tageszeiten (1878).
Randegger, Albert.
Medea (1869);
The One Hundred and Fiftieth Psalm (1872);
Fridolin (1873);
Saffo (1875).
Reichardt, Johann Friedrich.
Trauer Cantate auf den Tod Friedrich (1786);
La Danza (1790).
Reinecke, Karl.
Ein geistliche Abendlied (1851);
Schlachtlied (1852);
Schneewittchen (1852);
Salvum fac regem (1859);
Weinachts (1861);
Belshazzar (1863);
Te Deum Laudamus (1870);
Flucht der heilige Familie (1873);
Dörnroschen (1875);
Aschenbrödel (1877);
Hakon Jarl (1877);
Die wilden Schwäne (1881).
Reissiger, Karl Gottlieb.
Der Herr macht Alles wohl (1830).
Reissmann, August.
Drusus' Death (1870);
Lorelei (1871).
Rheinberger, Joseph.
Wasserfee (1867);
Die Nacht (1868);
Die tödte Braut (1873);
Johannisnacht (1875);
Klärchen auf Eberstein (1876);
Christophorus (1880);
Toggenburg (1880).
Ries, Ferdinand.
Der Morgen (1835).
Rockstro, William Smyth.
The little Daughter of Jairus (1871);
The Good Shepherd (1885).
Rode, Theodore.
Passion's Cantata (1864).
Romberg, Andreas.
The Transient and the Eternal (1801);
Lay of the Bell (1808).
Rossini, Gioachino.
Didone abandonnata (1811);
Eglo e Irene (1814);
Teti e Peleo (1816);
I pastori (1820);
Cara patria (1820);
La Riconoscenza (1821);
Il pianto delle Muse (1823);
La sacra Alleanza (1823);
Il vero ommagio (1823);
Joan of Arc (1859).
Rubinstein, Anton.
E dunque vero (1865);
Die Nixe (1866);
The Morning (1868);
Mignon (1869);
Hecuba (1872);
Hagar in the Wilderness (1872).
Ryan, Desmond L.
The Maid of Astolat (1886).
Saint-Saens, Charles Camille.
Les Noces de Prométhée (1867);
Le Deluge (1876);
Eighteenth Psalm (1877);
Chanson d' Ancêtre (1878);
La Lyre et la Harpe (1879);
Hymn to Victor Hugo (1885).
Salaman, Charles Kensington.
Shakspeare Jubilee (1850).
Salieri, Antonio.
Le Dernier Jugement (1788);
La Riconoscenza (1796).
Scarlatti, Alessandro.
Povera pelegrina (1697).
Scharwenka, Ludwig Philipp.
Herbstfeier (1882);
Sakuntala (1883).
Schira, Francesca.
The Lord of Burleigh (1873).
Schmitt, Aloys.
Die Wörter des Glaubens (1816);
Die Huldigung der Tonkunst (1818);
Die Hoffnung (1820).
Schubert, Franz.
Salieri's Jubilee (1815);
Prometheus (1816);
Cantata (Spendau) (1816);
Glaube, Hoffnung und Liebe (1816);
Der Frühlingsmorgen (1818);
Vogl Cantata (1818);
Die Allmacht (1820);
Constitution's Lied (1822);
À la belle Irene (1827);
Miriam's Song (1828).
Schumann, Robert.
Mignon's Requiem (1849);
Advent Hymn (1849);
Pilgrimage of the Rose (1851);
The King's Son (1851);
The Singer's Curse (1852);
The Page and the King's Daughter (1852);
The Luck of Edenhall (1853).
Singer, Otto.
Landing of the Pilgrims (1876);
Festival Ode (1877).
Smart, Henry.
Bride of Dunkerron (1864);
King René's Daughter (1871);
The Fishermaidens (1871);
Jacob (1873).
Spohr, Louis.
The Liberation of Germany (1814);
Lord, Thou art great (1815);
How lovely are Thy Dwellings (1815);
Jehovah, Lord of Hosts (1820);
The Lord's Prayer (1829);
Hymn to the holy Cecilia (1856).
Spontini, Gaspard.
Borussia (1826);
Gott segne der König (1828).
Stainer, John.
The Daughter of Jairus (1878);
St. Mary Magdalene (1883).
Stanford, Charles Villiers.
The Revenge (1880);
God is our Hope (1881).
Sullivan, Arthur.
Kenilworth (1864);
On Shore and Sea (1871);
The Martyr of Antioch (1875);
The Golden Legend (1886).
Svendsen, Johann.
Marriage Cantata (1873).
Thomas, Ambroise.
Lesueur Cantata (1852);
The Tyrol (1867);
Carnival of Rome (1868);
The Atlantic (1868);
Sabbath Night (1869);
Boieldieu Cantata (1875).
Thomas, Arthur Goring.
The Sun Worshippers (1881).
Tschaikowsky, Peter I.
Coronation Cantata (1882).
Volkmann, Friedrich R.
To-night (1867);
Sappho (1868).
Wagner, Richard.
New Year's (1834);
Das Liebesmahl der Apostel (1843);
Gelegensheit Cantate (1843).
Weber, Carl Maria von.
Der Ester Ton (1808);
Kampf und Sieg (1815);
Natur und Liebe (1818);
Jubilee Cantata (1818).
Whiting, George Elbridge.
Dream Pictures (1877);
Lenora (1879);
Tale of the Viking (1880);
Henry of Navarre (1885).
Winter, Peter.
Pigmalione;
Piramo e Thisbe;
Die verlassene Dido;
Vortigerne;
Hector;
Inez de Castro;
Henri IV.;
Baiersche Lustbarkeit;
Der Franz Lustgarten;
Die Hochzeit des Figaro;
Andromaque;
Prague et Philomela;
Timoteo;
Die Erlösung des Menschen;
Die Auferstehung Germania's Friedens; (all written between 1789 and
1793).
Zingarelli, Nicolo.
Telemaco (1785);
Eco (1802);
Cantata Sacra (1829).

INDEX.

Acis and Galatea, 27, 166.
Addison, 58, 59.
Advent Hymn, 27, 319.
Alexander's Feast, 27, 173.
American Cantatas, 28.
Antigone, 254.
Appendix, 353.
Ariadne, 198.
Arnold, Edwin, 117, 233.
As the Hart Pants, 262.
Auber, 66.

Bach, 22-25, 63, 308;
life of, 29.
Balfe, 56;
life of, 44.
Bassani, 18.
Beethoven, 20, 134, 135, 146, 250, 269, 314;
life of, 48.
Bells of Strasburg, 221.
Benedict, 66, 128, 299;
life of, 56.
Bennett, 27, 227, 332;
life of, 62.
Berlioz, 27, 295;
life of, 68.
Bononcini, 19, 164.
Brahms, 27, 135, 317;
life of, 82.
Bridal of Triermain, 124.
Bride of Dunkerron, 328.
Bruch, 27;
life of, 86.
Buck, 27, 28, 153, 156, 335;
life of, 101.
Burney, 14, 16, 18.
Byron, 45, 70.

Caldara, 19.
Cantata, origin of, 13;
earlier form, 14;
in France, 20;
in Germany, 21;
Church cantatas, 26-28;
modern cantatas, 26-28.
Carissimi, 13, 14, 16.
Carlyle, 38, 39, 40.
Centennial Meditation of Columbia, 28, 106.
Cesti, 16.
Chandos Anthems, 26, 164, 167.
Chopin, 317.
Chorley, 58, 64, 210, 265, 332.
Choron, 15, 201.
Christmas, 228.
Christophorus, 304.
Comala, 27, 144.
Corder, life of, 123.
Cowen, 27;
life of, 128.
Crusaders, 149.
Culprit Fay, 28, 157.

Damnation of Faust, 27, 74.
Dante, 198.
D'Astorga, 19.
Davidde Penitente, 274.
Donizetti, 59.
Don Munio, 27, 28, 103.
Dryden, 19, 58, 59, 170, 173, 175, 177, 178.
Drummond, 289.
Dvorák, life of, 134.

Ein' Feste Burg, 38.
Erl King's Daughter, 147.
Exhibition Ode, 66.

Fair Ellen, 93.
Festa Ascensionis Christi, 37.
Foote, 28,
life of, 140.
Forty-sixth Psalm, 28, 154.
Fridolin, 27, 299.
Frithjof's Saga, 27, 87.

Gade, 27, 295;
life of, 143.
Gasparini, 17, 18.
George Sand, 216.
Gilchrist, 28;
life of, 153.
Gleason, 28;
life of, 156.
Glorious Moment, The, 53.
Gluck, 192.
Goethe, 54, 80, 86, 148, 248, 249, 251.
Golden Legend (Buck), 28, 109.
Golden Legend (Sullivan), 27, 335.
Gottes Zeit, 33.
Gounod, 78, 79.
Gutenberg Fest, 263.

Hamerik, 28, 107, 109.
Handel, 19, 20, 25, 27, 32, 58, 59, 85;
life of, 163.
Handel's Passion Cantata, 25.
Hanover Cantatas, 25.
Hatton, life of, 186.
Hawkins, 13, 16.
Haydn, 26, 48, 54, 250;
life of, 191.
Heil der in Siegerkranz, 84.
Heine, 39.
Hiawatha, 28, 141.
Hiller, 27, 86, 123, 318;
life of, 201.
Hofmann, 27;
life of, 205.
Holyrood, 210.

Ich hatte viel Bekummerniss, 31.
Irving, 103, 114.
Italian Cantata writers, 16-20.

Jubilee Cantata, 344.
Jubilee Ode, 237.

Kampf und Sieg, 27, 346.
Keats, 288.
King René's Daughter, 330.
King Thamos, 270.
King Trojan, 28, 292.

L'Allegro, 178.
Lamartine, 216.
Landing of the Pilgrims, 28, 325.
Lauda Sion, 265.
Lay of the Bell, 27, 309.
Legrenzi, 17.
Leslie, life of, 209.
Light of Asia, 27, 28, 117.
Liszt, 27, 82, 83, 324, 339, 340;
life of, 215.
Lotti, 17, 19.
Longfellow, 110, 141, 221, 222, 335, 349.
Love Feast of the Apostles, 340.
Luther, 38, 39, 40, 42.

Macfarren, 50, 52;
life of, 226.
Mackenzie, life of, 232.
Marcello, 19.
Mary Magdalen, 242.
Masonic Cantatas, 276.
Massenet, life of, 241.
May Queen, 27, 64.
Mazeppa, 45.
Melusina, 27, 206.
Mendelssohn, 20, 27, 36, 40, 52, 62, 87, 134, 143, 161, 203, 206, 295,
307;
life of, 246.
Meyerbeer, 41, 66.
Milton, 178, 179, 286.
Minstrel's Curse, 322.
Miriam's War Song, 314.
Mozart, 20, 48, 62, 134, 176, 250;
life of, 268.

Nativity, The, 28, 286.
Nicolai, 41.

Odysseus, 27, 95.
Oedipus at Colonos, 259.
Oedipus Tyrannus, 28, 259, 281.
On Shore and Sea, 334.

Paganini, 70.
Paine, 28, 140;
life of, 280.
Paisiello, 20.
Parker, H. W., 28;
life of, 291.
Parker, J. C. D., 28;
life of, 295.
Pergolesi, 20.
Phoebus, Arise, 28, 289.
Pilgrimage of the Rose, 321.
Pope, 170.
Porpora, 19, 164, 192.
Praise Song to Harmony, 28, 161.
Prometheus, 27, 217.

Raff, 136.
Rákóczy March, 77.
Randegger, 27;
life of, 298.
Realm of Fancy, 28, 288.
Redemption Hymn, 28, 296.
Rheinberger, 27, 291;
life of, 303.
Robin Hood, 187.
Romberg, 27, 308.
Romeo and Juliet, 70.
Rosa Salvator, 17.
Rossi, 17.
Rossini, 44.
Rousseau, 20.
Ruins of Athens, 49.

Saint-Saens, 153.
Salamis, 92.
Salieri, 215, 313.
Sarti, 20.
Scarlatti, 18, 19.
Schiller, 299, 309.
Schubert, 27, 49, 148, 318,
life of, 313.
Schumann, 27, 62, 82, 251, 295, 307, 315;
life of, 317.
Scott, Walter, 124.
Seven Words, The, 194.
Shakspeare, 71, 75, 87, 227, 246, 254, 332.
Singer, 28, 109;
life of, 324.
Sleeping Beauty, 27, 129.
Smart, life of, 327.
Song of Miriam, 27.
Song of Victory, 27, 203.
Spectre's Bride, 136.
Spring Fantasie, 146.
St. Cecilia, 57.
Story of Sayid, 233.
Strozzi, 13.
Sullivan, 27;
life of, 332.

Tale of the Viking, 28, 349.
Tennyson, 67.
Thomas, Ambroise, 241.
Thomas, Theodore, 102, 109, 153, 233, 281, 324, 333, 339.
Toggenburg, 27, 306.
Triumphlied, 27, 83.

Uhland, 320, 322, 323.

Verdi, 66, 213.
Victor Hugo, 216.
Voyage of Columbus, 28, 114.

Wagner, 41, 106, 127, 145, 149, 216;
life of, 338.
Walpurgis Night, 27, 248, 262.
Weber, 27, 56, 251;
life of, 342.
Whiting, 28, 153;
life of, 348.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Standard Cantatas - Their Stories, Their Music, and Their Composers" ***

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